


Tweethearts

by olddarkmachine



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:04:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 54,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olddarkmachine/pseuds/olddarkmachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.</p><p>Disclaimer: I don't know the boys, and I certainly don't own them. This is just a work of fiction my mind spit out, and in no way truthful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My dearest followers on tumblr suggested I post my first finished work to ao3, so without further ado, Tweethearts!

It was a day that started just like any other really. There wasn’t anything to suggest that it’d be life changing, except maybe that the weather was predicted to be warm and sunny. So it only stood to reason that when Louis sent that tweet to Harry Styles, famous third of One Direction, he didn’t think anything of it.

Does anyone when they tweet a celebrity?

***

“Wake up, Princess!” The unholy Irish yell of Louis’ roommate cut through his consciousness, dragging him out of his sleep. Incoherently mumbling in response, the older boy flipped over in an attempt to drown out his insufferable friend. Really, sometimes he wondered how they had managed to live together for as long as they did with out either of them ending up dead in a ditch.

“Oh don’t be like that, babe, we have work today and even though I know you hate waking up, you can find solace in the fact that I hate waking you up,” Niall said in a sing songey voice, expecting some sort of sassy comment from the boy still wrapped up in his comforter. When the reply never came, he sighed and grabbed the pillow he had brought in case of emergency. “Okay Lou, I didn’t want to have to do this,” he muttered as he raised it above his head and proceeded to beat the sleeping boy with it.

“Niaaaaaall!” Louis whined, raising his hands in an attempt to shield his face from the onslaught of feathery cushion beatings. “Just go on without meeeeeee!”

“No can do, Lou! You made me promise to make sure you got to work on time cuz the boss man said you’d get the boot next time you’re late.” Louis could hear the cheeky grin that was inevitably stretched across Niall’s face. Honestly, the job only paid minimum wage, so it wasn’t worth all this heartache. He didn’t hate it exactly, it’s just that he had higher hopes for his life than working in the entertainment section of a bookstore. Of course, he really couldn’t expect much out of being a uni drop out. Had it not been for Niall, he probably would have been fired a long time ago. Of course, if it wasn’t for Niall, he also probably wouldn’t have had a job in the first place.

“Fine! Fine, I’m up you git,” he mumbled without any real malice. He felt the foot of his bed dip as the blonde plopped down, hugging his pillow to his chest. As Louis pushed himself up against his headboard, he watched his younger roommate, noting that the only real difference in him from the day they’d met was his lack of baby fat.

It had been the second day of year 10, and Louis had found himself in the Dean’s office, yet again. He wasn’t a troublemaker per say, he just liked to have a laugh, something a majority of his teachers didn’t seem to agree with. Admittedly, it was rather early in the year to find himself in the seat outside of the head honcho’s office— actually it was probably a new record for him, but he had an adoring public to entertain and he’d be damned if he let them down. As he waited, a blonde boy whom he’d never met— which was quite a feat since Louis had made it his goal to know everyone— was ushered in and told brusquely by his escort to sit next to Louis and not move. They had sat there in silence for a total of 33 seconds before Louis broke it.

“So watcha in for?” He asked cheerily, supplying his most charming smile which he had learned kept people from ignoring him. The boy looked at him quizzically, unsure of what he’d thought of his nosy neighbor. It took him a total of 15 seconds to respond, Louis knew because he’d counted.

“Apparently it’s frowned down upon to incite a riot in class over whether the English or Irish football team is better,” he’d said with a shrug and an impossibly thick Irish accent. Louis couldn’t stop himself from laughing, causing the secretary to shoot them a disapproving look before turning back to her computer. It was in that moment he knew they’d be best friends.

“Lou, if you like what you see, all ya gotta do is say so,” Niall’s voice pulled him back to the present just in time for him to see his roommate’s suggestive eyebrow waggle.

“Oh sweetie, you know you’re just not my type,” Louis cooed as he kicked teasingly at him.

“Alas, I’m a little too blonde and a lot less famous than you like em,” he laughed as he swatted at his attacker. “But seriously, Lou, if you get up now you can cook me breakfast AND we can get to work in time!” Normally the older boy would have groaned and fought against having cooking duty yet again— really you’d think someone that loved food so much would know how to cook SOMETHING— but the big blue eyes that peaked up at him from behind the pillow couldn’t be denied.

“Oh fine you black hole of a leprechaun. But only cuz I love ya,” Louis chuckled, reaching forward to ruffle the shock of blonde hair, which he still had to remind himself was dyed. He’d probably have believed it better if he had ever seen Niall with brown hair, but the boy refused, having been a dyed blonde almost longer than a natural brunette. His smile was big and bright, and Louis could honestly say that he was quite an attractive lad. Had he not been as close to a brother as he’d get, he probably would have tried to date him, but the younger boy had been right. He was a little too blonde and a lot less famous than Lou liked them. With that thought, he pushed the comforter off of his body and stretched, arching his back and enjoying the loud popping noises that resonated from his gummy joints. Niall’s look of disgust made him snort as he rolled lazily out of the bed. “Well, come on than, I know you can’t wait to see what disaster I can come up with this morning,” Louis laughed, offering his hand to his best friend to help him up. This had been their mornings for the past year since Niall had graduated Sixth Form and Lou had dropped out of Uni, and honestly, neither of them would have it any other way.

***

The problem with Louis always being put on cooking duty was that his cooking skills were just barely a step above Niall’s. Where the Irishman would incinerate the toast, he’d just blacken it. They’d invested in a cookbook they had seen on sale while at work in hopes that it’d aid them in tapping into their hidden talents are chefs, but soon discovered that even step by step instruction couldn’t save them. That, and even the Irish Bottomless Pit couldn’t stomach the idea of adding one whole stick of butter to everything— seriously, this Paula Deen lady had some issues. But, if there was one thing Louis did know how to make, it was eggy toast, which he always thought was easy enough, but after the small fire Niall had caused in their kitchen when attempting it he hadn’t been quite sure. On mornings when they weren’t running horribly late (the kind of late that involved forgoing the bus and just running because it was quicker) much like this one, that was what they partook in.

After consuming the bread and eggs, Louis took a quick shower and threw on his bland work clothes that consisted of khakis and light blue button up shirt. If it hadn’t been for the fact that he got to work with his best friend and get paid enough to make rent and eat, he’d find the dress code unworthy of the job. It had been hard enough finding something suitable to wear amongst his striped shirts and brightly colored trousers that he’d almost quit that first day on the principle that he didn’t believe he needed to spend money on clothes to help gain money. Luckily for him he’d had a loving mother who took him shopping to continue on his endeavors, even if she was still a little bitter about him leaving university. To be honest, it had been a terrible idea. He knew that. But at the time he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been in school for 15 of the 19 years he had been alive at the time and he hadn’t learned anything that would get him where he really wanted to be, which was singing in front of thousands, and when he’d heard Niall wasn’t going to join him in the upper school it just seemed like the right decision. Sure, he could go back, but that would mean admitting defeat, and he was much too prideful for that.

Besides, he thought to himself as he took in his reflection as he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, I have a pretty enough face, if worse comes to worse I’ll just ask Nialler to be my pimp.

“Lou! If you don’t finish up your morning wank over yourself waking you up early will be for nothing and we’ll be late and jobless anyway!” Niall’s voice boomed from the other side of the door, slightly impatient.

“Yeah, yeah! Almost done, just gotta wipe myself off on your towel!” Louis called back, biting his lip to keep from exploding with laughter.

“Prick,” the blonde muttered under his breath as the door was thrown open.

“Young Niall! Such fowl language! What would your mother say?” The brunette feigned shock as he pushed past him to get to his shoes.

“She’d say you’re a right prick for taking so long,” he retorted.

“Yeah, yeah, babe. Don’t worry, I’m ready. Let’s go endure another day of minimally paid slave work!” Louis cheered as he pulled his friend out the door with him.

***

It had only been three hours and the Doncaster boy was bored practically to tears. In fact, had he thought it wouldn’t be completely humiliating, he’d probably have started crying just so he’d have something to do. The bookstore was void of human life aside from his own, Niall’s and their manager who was lurking about trying to catch them doing anything but work. He seemed pretty hell bent on finding any reason to fire Lou after the incident which may or may not have involved the man’s brand new Audi, but for some reason he just couldn’t let Niall go, which was unfortunate for him since the boy had made it explicitly clear that if Louis went, so did he.

Louis hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his roommate since they’d arrive, both given hefty amounts of inventory to count and then stock on the shelves of their respected stations. He’d come up on the last of his items, a stack of DVDs that were supposed to be added to the top shelf, a cruel twist of fate as Louis could never reach the area. It had become his enemy of sorts, taunting him as it stood just out of his reach, but his ego kept him from stooping as low as to use a step stool. Every muscle in his body was tensed as he stood as high on his toes trying to push the DVD in his hand just hard enough to launch it into the empty gap with it’s name on it. With a quick flick of his fingers, it shot into place. Sighing with relief, he wiped his hand dramatically across his brow. One down, 19 more to go. He reached for another when he heard the shuffle of someone behind him. Turning quickly to see who the new occupant of the room was, he found himself beaming at the sight of Niall with a magazine cradled to his chest.

“So I’m done with my bit, and since I think this place is deader than a ghost town, I figured I’d stop on by and read you the latest feature on our favorite eye candy,” he said, half jokingly as he pulled a stool from behind the cash register. Louis snuck a glance at the cover, breath hitching at the cover. The current biggest boy band of the world, One Direction, graced the cover in a picture that was much too steamy for a band with a target audience of 10-16 year old girls. The trio had been fashioned to look like rockstars. Liam Payne, the “sensible” one, was transformed into a tousled haired bad boy with a smoldering gaze that was rimmed with eyeliner and an outfit that would seem more suited for a biker, what with it’s low cut, grease stained white shirt underneath a black leather jacket atop ripped jeans and black boots, than a popstar. Zayn Malik, the “mysterious” one, who admittedly already conquered the bad boy title, sported a quiff that rivaled that of his usual that peaked out from underneath a fedora. He too sported the guyliner though his ensemble seemed a little more fitting for him, as he donned a white wife beater coupled with a black vest over black torn and frayed jeans and a kickass pair of boots that Louis wished he could pull off. Of course, they hadn’t been who had caught his eye. No. It was the youngest of the trio, Harry Styles. The boy’s curls had been left messily atop his head and his green eyes pierced Louis’ soul from the cover, ringed with smudged black that only made them stand out brighter. He had been fashioned after Mick Jagger, Lou was certain of it as he took in the sight of the lad in skin tight jeans and open vest that revealed abs that no one should be allowed to display in public like that. In the picture, Harry was pulling at a scarf that was around his neck, seductively peering at the camera and biting his lip, as his bandmates both pulled similar faces only with old fashioned microphones. If Louis was being honest, he almost had to excuse himself before he tore the magazine from the Irishman’s grasp and ran like hell back home.

“Geez, think The Unholy Trinity can get any hotter?” Niall teased, flicking his gaze up to Louis’ shocked face before opening the magazine, making the distracting picture disappear. In an attempt to clear his head of very bad thoughts, the older boy went back to the task at hand as Niall started searching for the article in the index. Niall had named them “The Unholy Trinity,” because he believed the three boys had been summoned from our own personal hell’s. Seriously, it isn’t fair for three boys to be SO appealing and equally unattainable, he had said and Louis had to agree with him. It wasn’t like he was a teenage girl about it or anything— Okay, who was he kidding, he was a poster on his wall away from being worse than his sisters.

“So, like, I’d do terrible things to Zayn. And then I’d marry Liam because he’s the sweetest thing,” Niall started ranting after finding the feature and consequently more photos of the band, oblivious to his friend’s preoccupation. “If this was FMK, I’m sorry to say your boy would be killed off.” Louis hmm’d at him distractedly as he lifted up on his toes to try and get the DVD into its spot on the shelf, noting that this one seemed much harder to secure into place than the last.

“Don’t kill him, just send him to me,” he muttered, fingers strained to push the case that extra centimeter it needed. He flicked his finger much like he did before in hopes that it’d work as it had the first time. Holding his breath, he watched as it pushed into place and stayed there. Only 18 more to go. God, he was bored.

“Niall, love, you came here to keep me entertained with an article about the three hottest boys to walk to earth, so I highly suggest you start reading it before I am forced to do something crazy with these DVDs to make up for the mundaneness of our lives,” he remarked as he grabbed another DVD.

“No need to get your panties in a twist, Princess,” the blonde chortled. “Let’s see…” he paused for a moment to clear his throat, “It’s only been two years and yet British sensation One Direction have already torn up the charts, making music history and showing no signs of slowing down…”

***

The rest of the day passed as slowly as it had begun, and Louis was shocked he had made it out alive. He secretly believed the only reason he had was that magazine, which he had bought as soon as his shift was over. Though Niall had read it to him, with much enthusiasm as he interjected his own two cents, Louis had to own it and read the article for himself. He had tried his hardest all day to keep his mind off the cover photo and subsequent photoshoot that ran with it, but now that he was safely back in their apartment in his own room, he let his mind wonder as he lazily flipped through the pages. They really were attractive boys and equally as talented, which was saying something what with the state pop music was in these days where, more often than not, looks got you further than the music itself. But while he appreciated each of them in their own way, Harry had always been Louis’ favorite. Even during the auditions of The X Factor, he’d been his favorite. There was just something about him that he could identify with, and that feeling grew with everything he learned about the Cheshire boy.

We could definitely get on well, he thought to himself as he read the quick fire facts about Harry, noting that the popstar’s musical tastes echoed that of his own. As he read on, the music he had playing from his laptop switched to a rock song with jungle type beats that just made him want to dance. He loved the song, and bobbed his head along with it, singing along with it words and instrumental alike, so much so that he decided to tweet about it. That’s right, he was one of those. He pulled his laptop over to him, quickly pulling up the internet and clicking on Twitter, his most visited website. Honestly, if he had it in him to be ashamed about the amount of tweets he had tweeted in the past couple of months that he’d had his account, he would be. It couldn’t be healthy to be as addicted to the site as he was, especially since he tweeted about the littlest of things. The last one, which had been about the breakfast he’d made for Niall that morning, sat atop his page. It was an off day when he didn’t tweet at least 15 times, or it meant he had had work for way too long, which kept him from giving his 25 followers something to read about.

He typed up some of his favorite lyrics to the song—We walk into the fire and the flames are getting higher, you came and dropped the bomb that blew me away— and was about to hit enter when he got an urge to do something different. Highlighting the text, he deleted it and started typing again before triumphantly hitting enter. He smiled to himself as he read the tweet.

> @Louis_Tomlinson: I think @Harry_Styles would appreciate “FIRE” by Kids In Glass Houses #truefacts

He only stayed up a couple of hours longer, not really expecting to see any response from the famous boy. Afterall, he had over 4 million followers, all who probably tweeted him every second, what would be the chances, right? But that didn’t stop him from feeling slightly disappointed as he turned out his light, phone never once lighting up to notify him of a new Twitter notification.

***

The next morning, Louis woke up on his own, starting awake from a dream that sat hazily just out of his memory. He reached for his phone to check the time when he saw the tweet. It wasn’t at him, but his stomach flipped as if it had been.

> @Harry_Styles: We walk into the fire and the flames are getting higher, you came and dropped the bomb that blew me away.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry didn’t know why he looked at the tweet from the boy. Maybe it’s because it was the first tweet he’d seen that didn’t seem to have a hidden agenda. Or maybe because it was from a very attractive boy. Either way, this Louis Tomlinson had been right. He really did like this song. So much so that he’d had it on repeat for the past hour and a half, memorizing the lyrics and notes, letting it flood his senses and free him of the constraints of his life. Don’t get him wrong, Harry loved his job and the people he worked with. It’s just sometimes he missed his freedom to do whatever he liked and, well, be an 18 year old boy. As the song started for the umpteenth time he listened even closer, waiting for the line that had won his heart in the first place. As it came up, he pulled out his phone, typing away furiously before sending his tweet with the vaguest hope that the boy he turned him to the song would see it. As it faded out, he pressed the left arrow, starting it again. A quiet knock sounded on his door about 30 seconds in, causing Harry to let out an annoyed sound. 

“Yeah?” He hollered, not bothering to turn down the song. The door opened slowly, revealing 1/3 of the One Direction flat.

“Look, Haz, this isn’t typical of me,” Liam started to say, “but if I hear that bloody song one more time, I will be forced to feed you your speakers.” Harry eyed the slightly older boy who stood in his doorway, considering the likelihood of him fulfilling his threat. Though his big brown puppy eyes made him look incapable of hurting a fly, Harry had no doubt in his mind that his soft spoken band mate could, in fact, force him to ingest his rather expensive Beats speakers. 

“Yeah, Harry, and I won’t do anything to help you!” Zayn’s Bradford accent drifted into his room from the living room, where he was most undoubtedly watching some recorded episode of his trash TV.

“Not like you would have helped anyway, you wanker!” Harry called back, ignoring Liam as he rolled his eyes as the two boys started to bicker from separate rooms.

“Maybe you should get better music than!” The so called Bradford Bad Boy retorted, causing the youngest to scoff. 

“Maybe you should learn what good music is!” A small smile started to tug at the corners of Harry’s mouth as Liam sighed dramatically, dropping himself onto the foot of his bed. 

“Oi! You wouldn’t know good music of it came and bit you on the ass!” Zayn’s voice was full of laughter as the Cheshire lad imagined his roommate sprawled across their shared couch, smiling to himself as he awaited his turn in their banter match. 

“Don’t talk about my ass, Zayn Malik! Unless you want a piece of it, In which case, all you have to do is say so!” Harry made a point of letting his voice gain the allure he used when he was in interviews with particularly flirty older women. The boys knew he was a little less inclined towards the female persuasion having found out during a rather rambunctious party they’d thrown in the X Factor house. They had yet to let him live down that night, constantly reminding him that he’d tried pretty damn hard to get his tongue down Zayn’s throat. He probably would have gotten away with it too if it hadn’t been for Liam playing a rousing game of “Keep the Drunk From Snogging His Band Mate.” 

“Still not over me, eh Styles?” Zayn’s voice pulled him out of his trip down memory lane as he walked into the room to join him and Liam. 

“You wish,” He rolled his eyes, and stuck his tongue out at him. That’d show him, he thought to himself as he started to rummage through his desk drawer for his headphones, vaguely aware that the song was about to end. “Look, I’ll put on some headphones, so get out and let me pretend I don’t have to put up with your constant harassment, yeah?” He remarked with no malice in his voice, pointing his green eyes in Liam’s direction. The boy had stretched himself across the foot of Harry’s bed and pulled out his phone, clicking through messages rapidly. 

“Wish we could, Harry, but we have interviews all day. Remember?” Liam’s brown eyes met his over the screen of his Blackberry. Harry’s blank stare answered for him, causing him to sigh. “Well, the car will be here any moment to get us, so I’d suggest getting ready if you aren’t.” He made a point to give Harry the up and down, causing the younger boy to suddenly feel self conscious. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten per say, more that he’d gotten sidetracked. He had, in fact, been getting ready when he’d remembered the song from the tweet the night before. Then one thing led to another and he’d soon found himself sitting at his desk in nothing but his jeans and one sock. (Where the hell was his other sock?) Zayn cocked an eyebrow at him before shaking his head.

“I’d really hope you aren’t considering that ready. I know the stylists have their way with us once we get there, but mate, don’tcha think coming half naked is expecting a little much from them?” He teased as he bent down to pick a plaid shirt from the floor and tossed it to Harry before walking out of the room without waiting for a reply. He sniffed it, hoping it wouldn’t be too dirty, before pulling it on. Nothing a little spritz of cologne wouldn’t fix, after all. Liam rolled off the bed with a small grunt and started towards the door to follow their band mate. 

Such gits, he thought to himself as he searched for the missing sock. He meant it lovingly, of course. They were  _his_  gits. He honestly wouldn’t have known what to do without them. Often he thought about what would have happened if he’d made it onto the show as a solo act, and he often realized he hated the scenario it created. He’d be a hell of a lot more lonely and a hell of a lot less happy. Without them, he’d have no one to truly confide in as he was warned against coming out to the public, at least for now, and he often found that he needed both boys to keep him from going insane. They’d worked hard to build up his reputation as a lady killer, a reputation that he’d easily have blown if he’d been left to his own devices. Yes, though they often bickered, Liam and Zayn were his family. His family who had left him to find his misplaced sock on his own, but his family nonetheless.

“Aha!” He cried triumphantly after finding the sneaky bugger on the floor, half hidden by his comforter. After pulling it on and throwing on his white converse, he stopped by his dresser, spraying himself with his cologne before looking at his reflection in the mirror. His hair had decided to it didn’t want to behave this morning, and he’d given up knowing the stylists would put enough product in it to calm it down somewhat. Though he couldn’t say there wouldn’t be any causalities. It seemed to be quite unruly today. 

“Harry! Car’s here!” Liam’s voice called.

“Yeah ya prick! So hurry up!” Zayn added cheekily.

“I’m comin’! Hold on!” Harry yelled back, checking to make sure his necklaces were secured around his neck. With one last tug at his hair with his hand, he left his room, closing the door shut behind, completely forgetting his phone on his desk.

***

Louis was still laying in bed, checking his phone every few minutes to make sure that there was really a tweet from the Harry Styles quoting lyrics from he song he’d sent him the night before. Not the he was being a girl about it or anything. He was very aware that it could have been quite a coincidence, in fact, he had pretty much convinced himself it had been just that. What were the chances of the boy seeing his tweet amongst the loads he’d received and then paying it enough mind to not only listen to the song, but to tweet the lyrics. No. It was just a coincidence and he’d just solidified the fact that Louis had called it right in saying he had excellent music taste. But there was that little part of him— alright, that rather large part of him— that believed that tweet was meant for him.

Of course, there was only one way to prove if it were or not. Obviously, he’d just have to tweet him again, but that was exactly what had him still laying in his bed, staring dejectedly at the ceiling. He would have to pick the perfect song as to not waste the opportunity of getting down to the bottom of this mystery, which was a lot more daunting of a task than he’d originally thought. He’d put his iTunes on shuffle in hopes that the perfect song would just happen to play at him again, only with each song he changed his mind. See, Louis was a dweller. The longer he dwelled on something, the more complicated he made the problem before he found himself doing just as he was now, which was waging a war with himself in his head over which song would be best to send to his celebrity crush— er, idol. It wasn’t a crush, he reassured himself as he stared down the white ceiling, tracing shapes into the bumps and cracks. It was more of a fascination. Yeah, let’s go with that. 

As he was about to give up on his venture and head to the kitchen to start breakfast before Niall could have the chance to assault him again, his shuffled playlist changed to the next song. It was a band that he’d discovered a couple months before, and had fallen completely in love with. They were the perfect mix of indie and electronic, and he was certain that anyone who appreciated music would appreciate the song. With a small smile on his lips, he grabbed his phone and opened the mobile Twitter app. 

> Ya know what other thing I think @Harry_Styles would appreciate? [SLEEPSONG](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iv-EMbbZYV4) by   
> Bastille. #ItsAmazing

This is it, he thought uneasily to himself as his thumb hovered over the tweet button. Hopefully he’d made the right choice and wasn’t getting his hopes  _too_  far up. Maybe he was. Maybe he should rethink this.

“G’MORNING, SUNSHINE!” Niall bellowed as he threw Louis’ bedroom door open, succeeding in not only giving him a heart attack, but also in making him jump, causing him to press the ‘Send’ button. The color drained from his face as he watched it get added to his timeline. Well, that was that. “Oh, you’re up,” the Irishman said, sounding slightly defeated as he lowered the pillow that he’d had raised over his head. “Well that makes waking you up a little less fun. Way to go, Lou,” he pouted as he leaned against the doorframe. Louis stared at his phone, willing it to light up with a response, completely ignoring his best friend, making the boy’s pout deepen.

“And now you’re ignoring me!” He cried dramatically, walking into the room and throwing himself face first onto the foot of Lou’s bed. The sudden movement broke the older boy’s trance as he head shot up to take in the state of his roommate.

“Really, Nialler? Are you really having a temper tantrum on my bed right now?” He teased, reaching forward to ruffle the younger boy’s hair, eliciting a muffled reply. “Can’t understand you, babe, when you’re speaking into the bed.” Niall’s head shot up as he glared at Louis.

“Yes. Yes I am. And I will continue to do so until you have fed me. Then, and only then, will I forgive you for denying me the simple joy of beating you senseless with my pillow,” he said bitterly before dropping his head back into the sheets. 

“You’re such a drama queen,” he laughed, glancing back at the phone and trying to fight the disappoint at it’s lack of message. “C’mon then. I can’t have my only source of entertainment at work angry with me, now can I?” 

***

Louis had checked his phone every ten minutes, almost exactly to the second. At first, Niall had found it funny. He knew Louis was slightly addicted to Twitter, he was one of his few followers after all. Not that he paid it much attention as he’d only gotten one at the urging of his friend and it was just best to give in to him than to try and fight him, especially when he had set his mind to something. But now he was just curious. He hadn’t checked the site in a week now, not really needing to see what Louis was tweeting as he experienced the majority of the tweets firsthand. Even when he didn’t, he still heard a play-by-play of them anyway as soon as Lou got home, so really, what was the point of checking the site? Watching his friend pull the phone from his pocket for the thousandth time since they’d arrived to work led him to believe that maybe he was missing something. Louis was so antsy that he was starting to get jittery as well, shifting uneasily in his chair and checking the time. They only had thirty minutes left before they were off, but he wasn’t sure if he could wait that long, especially as he watched his best mate’s face fall when he looked at the presumably blank screen of his phone. As he saw Louis turn back to his work— currently dusting the shelves— Niall pulled out his own phone, flipping through the different pages of apps before landing on the one where Twitter resided. With one last glance to make sure his friend was still working and his boss was nowhere to be scene, he pulled the site up. His best friend’s latest tweets sat at the top of the page and he read them. Then read them again. 

It wasn’t like Louis to tweet at celebrities. He had once told Niall there was no point as he couldn’t understand how anyone could expect to get a response when they were just one of many, yet his latest two tweets had been to none other than Harry Styles. Not only were they to the heartthrob, but they were just suggesting songs, which he didn’t think would be too good at capturing the boy’s attention. I’ll have to get to the bottom of this, he thought to himself as he closed out of the app and eyed his friend again, who had once again pulled the phone from his pocket. He definitely needed to figure out what Louis was up to.

***

Harry had been irritable all day. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to take it out on the crew and his friends since he’d been the one to leave his phone in the flat, but all he wanted to do was see if this Louis Tomlinson fellow had tweeted anything at him. Not, that he really should care. He’d only suggested one song to him, so why would it matter if the boy ever tried to make contact again. It wasn’t like Harry knew him, or vice versa. He still caught himself glancing at the clock every few minutes, counting down the time until he got to go home. They were at their third and final interview for the day and he was just about out of patience.

“So, Harry, tell us about this new girl in your life. Who is she?” The radio presenter asked him, flashing her bright smile at him. The question caught him off guard and he tried to think of who he was meant to be seeing at the time. The silence grew awkward as Zayn and Liam watched him expectantly. God, what was her name.

“Uh, her name is…” He squeezed his eyes shut trying to remember. “Em-” Liam kicked him under the table, cutting him off. Not Emma than. The host started to look worried as he frustratingly ran a hand through his hair. Zayn started to mouth the name at him from behind his hand so she wouldn’t see. Am… Ama… 

“Amelie!” He finally said, remembering the date from just a couple of nights ago. Really, they were all starting to blend together. “Her name is Amelie, and she’s a lovely girl.” He replied, supplying the host with a brilliant smile of his own. The tension in the room lifted almost immediately as Liam sat back relieved and Zayn covered up his snicker with a cough.

“And does she know what she’s getting into with Lady Killer Styles?” She laughed. Harry felt himself wince at the nickname. He didn’t like it, but it wasn’t like he was allowed to clear it up. Quickly he composed himself and gave her a cheeky response.

“Does anyone know what they’re getting into with me?” He even added a wink for her benefit, causing her to fall into a fit of giggles. 

“Well there ya go, girls,” she announced, “Dear Harold here has got himself another one. I know, I’m crying a little too.” She faux pouted at the microphone. “But that’s all the time we have with One Direction for today, so I hope you enjoyed yourself and thank you boys for coming in.”

“It was our pleasure,” Liam replied easily for the group. He had been the one appointed to do the majority of the talking as he generally had all the answers down. That was, of course, unless the question was directed toward someone else. Harry’s eyes flickered to the clock again, something that Zayn noticed. He’d been doing it all day long, and he was worried that something might be wrong with their youngest member. 

“Hey man, are you okay?” He finally asked as they’d loaded back into their car and Harry had started to anxiously pick at one of his many bracelets. His green eyes had looked up from their task as he cocked an eyebrow at Zayn.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” His voice was off and Zayn knew he was hiding something, but who was he to pry. With a shrug he let it drop as the boy turned back to picking at his bracelet. The car ride was unbearably long for the band as Harry’s anxiety started to spread through the car.

“Seriously Harry, you look like you’re about to jump out of the car at any moment,” Liam finally said, getting annoyed with the quiet tapping of the younger boy’s foot, which immediately stopped as he was addressed.

“I forgot my phone,” he said lamely, knowing full well that his bandmates would get a laugh at his apparent separation anxiety. 

“That’s it?” Zayn questioned. Harry shrugged in response. 

“You try going the whole day without your link to the world and tell me how you deal with it.” His retort had come out harsher than he’d meant, but as he was about to apologize, they pulled to the front of their building. Without a moments hesitation, Harry jumped out of the car and headed into the building and up to their flat. It was actually quite sad how badly he needed to get to hid phone to check Twitter, and he honestly would have judged himself if he were anyone else. Be that as it may, he was still slightly judging himself as he pushed the door open, not waiting to see if they boys had followed him, and headed straight for his room. 

With a sigh of relief, he grabbed the device, noting that there weren’t any missed calls or texts waiting for him as he pulled up the app which opened to the last account it’d been on, which just so happened to be Louis’. Not, that he’d been planning on checking back or anything. His eyes lit up as he saw his name in the most recent tweet and he found himself smiling stupidly, much to his chagrin. 

Why did he care so much about this stranger suggesting music to him?

***

“Okay, Lou, do you have something to tell me?” Niall said as they sat at the dinner table, both enjoying bowls of cereal as Louis didn’t really seem to be in the mood to attempt cooking anything. Louis, who had been pouting all dinner long and having a particularly intense staring competition with his Lucky Charms, looked up questioningly at his friend.

“No?” It sounded more like a question than an answer.

“Ya sure? Because you’ve been acting weird all day,” Niall pressed, fixing his blue gaze on Louis, knowing he’s eventually get uncomfortable enough and just talk. He’d learned that trick awhile back while trying to get Louis to tell him what his Christmas present was. It was his secret weapon and he saved it for special occasions now, and this seemed to be one of them. Louis tried to hold his gaze, biting his lip in concentration before finally letting out a sigh of defeat.

“Well, ya see-” Louis’ phone lit up, causing his mouth to snap shut as he snatched it off the table. His cerulean eyes were bright as his eyes darted across the screen, taking in the new tweet from the famous boy.

> @Harry_Styles: Oh, you go to sleep on your own and you wake each day with your   
> thoughts and it scares you to be alone. It’s a last resort. 

His stomach flipped as he let the words settle in. There was no way Harry had tweeted lyrics from two songs he’d tweeted at him by coincidence. Which meant he’d read them. Which meant that those tweets were actually aimed to him. A girlish squeal threatened to escaped his mouth as the excitement built to uncontrollable levels. Keep it together, Tommo, he thought to himself as he stared at his phone, contemplating what to do next when his phone disappeared from his grasp.

“OI!” He yelled, trying to grab the device from Niall’s hand, who held it just out of his reach.

“Uh uh, Princess. You get it back when you tell me what’s up,” he said, wagging a finger in his direction. Louis rolled his eyes, trying to decide if he could get away with punching his friend and running from the room with his phone. His chances of making it were quite slim really, Niall had always been quicker. 

“Fine, I think Harry Styles is tweeting at me without tweeting  _at_ me,” he finally said. There was a beat of silence before Niall started laughing. “What?! It isn’t funny, you prick! Now give me the phone!” He swiped for the phone again, this time managing to get it from the Irishman’s grasp as he continued to laugh at his friend’s expense.

“You’ve been pissy all day because you’ve been waiting for Harry Styles,  _The_ Harry Styles, to tweet?” Niall said incredulously. Well, when you put it that way, Louis thought to himself. 

“Look, it doesn’t make sense, alright. I tweeted a song at him and he tweeted the lyrics. Then I did it again and look! Right there. The lyrics.” He pushed the phone into the blonde’s face, making him go cross eyed with how close it was. Pushing it back slightly, Niall read the tweet. 

“Alright, so he tweeted some lyrics. You don’t know if they’re for you,” he said, trying to be rational, though if he were being quite honest, it was a pretty big coincidence. 

“But what are the chances, Niall?! Two tweets in a row?” Louis didn’t need anymore help doubting himself, and if there was anyone who would help him, it was Niall. The younger boy looked at the phone again.

“You know what this means, right?” He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. It generally wasn’t good when Niall got that look in his eye. Louis had seen it numerous times before many pranks ensued. Usually he found it fun and exciting when he wasn’t the one on the receiving end of the look. Now, he wasn’t too sure if he liked the way Niall was eyeing his phone.

“What does it mean?” He asked nervously. Without warning, Niall snatched the phone from the table and pushed away from the table, knocking the chair down as he ran around it and into the bathroom. Louis’ stomach dropped as his mind caught up with what just happened. 

“Niall! Give it back!” He whined, making his way to the locked door and banging on it loudly.

“Hush now, babe, this is for the greater good!” The Irish voice sounded from behind the door. 

“What greater good! Just give. Me. My. Phone.” He kicked the door with every word to add emphasis, a trick he’d learned from his sisters. He could only imagine the horrifying things his friend was doing with his phone. Just the thought was enough to make him attack the door with renewed fervor. Then, just as soon as he’d disappeared into the bathroom, he was opening the door, passing the device back to Louis. 

“Calm down, here ya go,” he smirked, walking by as if he hadn’t just given his best friend a minor panic attack. 

“You twat, what’d you do?” Louis said, unlocking his phone and making a mental note to change the password to avoid anything like this from ever happening again. 

“Nothing, wanker. Just tweeted your boy, is all.” His blood ran cold. He loved Niall, really, he did, but he sure as hell made it hard to love him sometimes. Opening the Twitter app, he hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to know what his friend hand sent. Curiosity got the better of him and he looked at his phone, reading the words “he’d” sent out. 

> @Louis_Tomlinson: Hey @Harry_Styles you’d appreciate [SWEET DISPOSITION](http://youtu.be/4C8e7nNLZNs) by The   
> Temper Trap ;)

Like he’d ever send Harry Styles a winky face, he scoffed to himself. Of course, he wouldn’t have sent him that song either, knowing that he already liked that song. (Wow did he feel weird knowing that.) Great, now Niall had gone and ruined it. He certainly wasn’t going to respond now. Sulking, he headed towards his room, wanting to avoid his friend at all costs as to keep from implementing any of his ideas of revenge. With a sigh, he sat down on his bed, pulling his laptop towards him and searching for where he wanted to start his shuffle. Just as he was about to start a song, his phone lit up.

> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson Looks like the third time isn’t the charm. I already   
> know that one. Try again? :)

Everything stopped as he read the words over and over again.  _He_  had replied. And not just in the sort of acknowledging way, but in an actual mention of his name way. Okay, breathe, he thought to himself. It’s no big deal. Then his phone lit up again.

> @Harry_Styles is now following you


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

Louis didn’t like to think of the sound he had made as a squeal. It was more of a manly cry of joy. Yeah, that’s what it was. Who was he kidding, he squealed, and he squealed big time. In fact, he was worried for a moment that Niall would run in to see if he were being murdered. After having waitied a few minutes to make sure the Irish lad didn’t throw open the door, he had danced about his room much like Katherine Heigl in one of her many romantic comedies. On a normal day, he probably would have judged himself, but this was an extenuating circumstance. 

Harry Styles had not only acknowledged his existence, but he was now his 26th follower. Lucky number 26. Okay, it probably wasn’t a lucky number by anyone else’s standards, but it was his favorite number and that had to be a sign. Obviously they were meant to be…. Friends of course, cause he wasn’t gonna act like a girl about this. Clicking on the @ connect icon of his Twitter app, he stared at the top two updates, worried he’d somehow misread the messages. Nope, it was the real Harry and it really was at him. 

     @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson Looks like the third time isn’t the charm. I already   
     know that one. Try again? :)

Try again, he’d said. Try again? It was already hard enough to find something when he hadn’t been sure he’d been noticed, but knowing that wherever the famous boy was, he was waiting for a reply, set him on edge. The giddiness had started to dissipate as he kept his gaze on the phone. This was all Niall’s fault. Not only was he a terrible friend for not even pretending to worry about his well being— seriously, what if he had been getting murdered?— but he’d gone and made Louis aware that Harry was aware of him. It was too much pressure. Of course, it’d been a couple hours now, so maybe he’d given up on Louis, writing him off as a mental case with little to no regard towards the fact that he’d just been tweeted by a world famous celebrity. Maybe he didn’t give a damn anymore, losing interest because who was he to this boy? 

Nobody, was the answer to that question. But he’d followed him, and tweeted at him, and Louis was obviously enough of a gentleman to reply. If only he could figure out what to reply with. He’d turned his iTunes library on some time ago, noting that it seemed to have better answers than he ever did, but it was coming up short, spitting out songs he didn’t even want to admit he knew much less over the internet to his celebrity crush. Er, idol. Dammit. 

Flopping back onto his pillow, he threw his arm over his eyes, listening to the music, hoping and praying that something good would come up so he could just answer the damn tweet and get the ball out of his court. 

***

It was movie night in the One Direction flat, and it was a long standing tradition. Sure, they sold out arenas and broke records around the world, but they’d be damned if they ever missed the weekly movie watch where they ate fattening food and pretended movies like Toy Story 3 didn’t make them tear up. 

This week’s movie was some action movie with lots of bad guys getting their asses kicked by Liam Neeson, mainly because the last movie had reduced them all to snotty messes as the weeped over the lost friendship of a fox and a hound. (Liam was on probation from choosing the movie because of it.) Harry had been paying attention to it, really, he had, but it hadn’t been his fault that @Louis_Tomlinson had chosen to tweet at him about twenty minutes in. He tried to hide his grin as he reloaded his feed to see that the song suggesting boy had tweeted at him once again. His second suggestion was even more amazing than the first, saying almost everything he’d ever felt. It was almost like this boy— he hoped he wasn’t a boy because it could get quite awkward if he were some internet predator— he’d never met could read his mind. That was crazy, of course, because they’d never met and he didn’t think that mind reading could work over the internet. He’d picked the lyrics because though he hadn’t written them, he very well could have. They were like a confession and as soon as he’d sent them, he’d felt a weight lift off his chest, though why he felt the need to confess anything to this stranger, via nondescript tweet, was beyond him. He just felt as if this Louis boy understood him better than anyone.

So when he saw that the message contained the name of a song he already knew, and was certain anyone who knew him knew he knew, he felt slightly letdown.  He had the lyrics to the song tattoo’d on him for God’s sake, of course he already knew the song. He did appreciate the winky face at the end though. He felt his grin grow wider at the idea of the stranger sitting on the other end of the internet being just as cheeky as he was. Though he hadn’t responded directly to him before, Harry hit the reply button, and stared at the blank message, contemplating what his first real words to Louis should be. 

      And here I thought you knew me well enough to know I already know that one, Mr.  
    @Louis_Tomlinson.

Biting his lip, he looked over the message before shaking his head and quickly selecting all the text to delete it. Too snarky. Liam tore his gaze from the TV and turned to his friend.

“You alright there, mate?” He asked worriedly. It had been a weird day with Harry, and now he was shaking his head at his phone, which was even weirder given two of the three people he usually texted were on the couch with him. Harry’s green eyes flickered up from the small screen to look at him.

“Yeah. I’m good,” he smiled widely. “Just… looking through some tweets.” Liam nodded, turning his attention back to the television where kickass movie Liam was beating some bad guy. 

“Get ‘im, Liam! They’ve got your daughter!” Zayn cheered, boxing at the screen and succeeding in shaking the whole couch. Harry chuckled at his roommates as they sat totally engrossed in the film and then turned back to his phone.

     @Louis_Tomlinson Boo, I know that one :(

Scrunching up his nose, he quickly erased that message as well, not liking that it made him sound like a whiny prat. What could he say to this boy he’d never met? It had to be something good. It would be the first real contact, assuming he’d even figured out that the lyrics were for him. 

     @Louis_Tomlinson Looks like the third time isn’t the charm. I already   
     know that one. Try again? :)

That sounded good. Just the write amount of cheek and he sounded friendly enough. At least he hoped so. Before he could change his mind, he hit the send button. There was no going back now. While I’m at it, might as well follow him, he thought to himself as he clicked over to The Boy In The Striped Shirt’s profile, selecting the follow button. Now he’d  be notified if and when he got any responses. With that in mind, the Cheshire boy tossed his phone onto the coffee table where he could see it, but not be tempted to check it every few moments. After all, he did want to watch at least a little bit of Liam Neeson being a boss. 

By the end of the movie, Harry was glancing down at the blank screen of his phone every few seconds. There still hadn’t been a reply and he was worried he hadn’t chosen the right reply after all. What if he weirded the stranger out? Oh God, what if he really was a weird internet predator? What if he’d just managed to weird out a weird internet predator? He started to chew on the corner of his thumb nail, not even pretending to watch the movie anymore as he set his gaze upon the inanimate object, willing it to light up. 

“Ooooh! Show them who’s boss!” Both Liam and Zayn cried out as the final fight scene started to play out on the screen. The sounds of bone crunching punches and gunshots filled his ears as the phone stayed dark. Maybe he was just pathetic and couldn’t even get a random guy from twitter to talk to him. Not that it really mattered to him anyway. He didn’t even know the guy. Fine, he didn’t want a response anyway. Just as he went to turn his full attention to the movie he’s just about missed in his endeavors to will a response from Louis, his phone screen lit up. With a sharp intake of breath, he swiped the phone up. Okay, maybe he did want a response.

***

Louis had just about been ready to give up on finding another song to send to Harry. It was late, he was tired and he had work in the morning. Besides, he’d convinced himself that the boy had just been mocking him and couldn’t possibly have cared for a response. He’d even set his alarm and curled up under his covers when  _the_ song came on. Not only was it a good song, but the band was as close to perfection as Louis thought any band could get. It really was a miracle he hadn’t thought to suggest them earlier. He grabbed his phone, trying to suppress his triumphant smile as he started to type up his next tweet.

     @Harry_Styles Let’s call it a momentary lapse in judgement. Try [I WANT TO SAVE YOU](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgqTR2sAsHs) by  
     Something Corporate. #theyreperfection

Take that, Mr. Styles, he thought to himself as he hit the tweet button a little more enthusiastically than was really necessary. He set the phone back on the nightstand beside his bed and curled into a ball on his side. It wasn’t like Harry would reply right away anyway. His eyes started to drift shut as the warmth of the blankets started to settle into his bone when he heard the quiet buzz of the phone. Without a second thought, he grabbed the phone again. Not that he necessarily thought it would be Harry. It could be an important message after all. 

     @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson “Standing on the edge of morning scent of sex and  
     new found glory playing” Do you talk to all the boys this way? :P

Louis’ breath hitched as he read the tweet twice, just to make sure his sleep addled mind hadn’t made him read it wrong. Now they were having banter? He could die and go to heaven. He was a cheeky little bastard too. Louis always knew they could totally be friends in real life. Chuckling to himself, he typed up a quick response and sent it before he could dwell on it and change his mind.

     @Harry_Styles Nah, just the cute famous ones 

Adrenaline was buzzing through his veins as he laid in the dark room, waiting for a response. He didn’t have to wait long before he felt the phone vibrate against his chest.

     @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson Using me for my fame. That hurts. And here I  
     thought we could be friends.

Friends. Friends?! Harry Styles wanted to be friends?! He had to choke back his excitement, fully aware that Niall was just down the hall and most likely wouldn’t appreciate being awaken by his giddy cheers at the idea that he may just become friends with Harry. 

     @Harry_Styles But we can be friends!

He didn’t even put the phone down this time, too excited to see the singer’s response. Almost as soon as the screen had dimmed, it relit.

     @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson No, no. It’s too late now! I’m wounded! You’ll just  
     have to win me over with another song ;)

As he went to reply, another message popped up on the screen.

     @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson In case you didn’t get it from my last tweet, I think  
     this song is amazing. #TheyAREPerfection #ButYoureStillInTheDogHouse

Louis smiled at his phone as he felt his heart flutter. He thought one of his favorite bands were perfect. Just like he did. Not only that, but he was listening to them. Wherever he was, Harry Styles was listening to one of Louis’ favorite bands because  _he’d_  told him to check them out. A low, deep yawn rolled through his body causing him to sneak a glance at the clock. Shit, he thought to himself as he realized Niall would be bursting into his room, pillow in hand, in four hours so they could go work the opening shift. A small—like, very, very, smaller than an atom sized sort of small— amount of him told him he should get to sleep. What if he woke up and realized this had all been a dream? Or worse, what if he woke up, found out it was real, and then found out that Harry had grown tired of him? What then? Another yawn forced it’s way up his throat. Maybe that really small part of him wasn’t so small. Besides, he thought to himself as he started to type up a reply, he had to be tired too, right?

     Well, Mr. @Harry_Styles it’s late and I’m in need of some beauty sleep, not that you  
     probably know what that is :P 

His response was damn near instantaneous as the message flickered onto the screen before it even had time to dim.

     @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson I don’t think you know what it is either. But I’ll let  
     you sleep. Goodnight! #IExpectASongTomorrow

A small, content grin curled up on the Doncaster boy’s lips as he read the compliment and the flutter of his heart returned. Not that he’d admit it was his heart fluttering. It was most likely a heart palpitation or something. Yeah. 

     @Harry_Styles Goodnight to you too :) #IllMakeItAGoodSong

And with that, Louis set the phone on his nightstand and cuddled further down into the sheets, a sleepy smile stretched across his lips. He could help it as he found himself drifting off to sleep, imagining that somewhere, Harry was doing the same. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

They’d been talking for a week now, upgrading from @ mentions and direct messages to texts. Louis wasn’t proud of his reaction to receiving the 10 digits in a direct message, mind you. He’d actually very much like to pretend he hadn’t screamed and hopped up from where he’d been crouched sorting CDs and nearly braining himself on the overhanging section. Niall, of course, seemed to disagree. Not an hour went by without some smart remark from the blonde alluding to Louis and his obvious infatuation with the celebrity. 

“I don’t have a crush, you prick!” Louis had finally yelled after Niall texted him from across the store. The younger boy’s bark of laughter echoed through the empty store as he turned back to the magazine rack, silently praising himself as he stacked yet another beauty magazine on the shelf. 

“First step is denial, Lou!” he called back in a sing songy voice. Louis imagined the shit eating grin that must have been plastered on his roommate’s face as he started to rip open another box of DVDs. 

“First step is beating my insufferable  roommate cuz he can’t just shut it!” Louis yelled, happy that the store was yet again empty and that their manager was on his lunch break. Maybe now was his chance to finish off the Irishman. It’s not like there were any witnesses. After wrestling with the tape for a few more seconds, it finally ripped off, and he tore the box open. His eyes were met by the photographed green ones of none other than his new friend, which adorned the cover of the band’s new concert DVD. It was still surreal knowing that Harry was a real person and not just a face on a magazine, book or TV. At least, he could only hope he was real and he wasn’t actually talking to like, an android or something. Of course, that could very well be a possibility now that he thought about it. Harry was a little too perfect to be a real person. His eyes stayed locked on the boy who smiled widely out over the crowd as his bandmates stood at his side, smiling equally dazzling smiles. That must be such an amazing feeling, he thought to himself as he imagined what it was like to stand in front of a crowd as they cried your lyrics out to you. 

“Oh, oh Lou. You’ve got it bad when you’re about to have a wank over his DVD,” Niall’s voice said from just behind him, causing him to flinch and drop the case he’d picked up without realizing it. 

“I swear to whatever holy force there may be, you Irish twat, that if you say something about him one more time,” Louis threatened, turning to shoot his friend a glare that he hoped would burn like the fires of Mordor. He backed away slightly, hands up in surrender.

“Put the sass away, Princess,” he drawled, his bright blue eyes full of mirth as he eyed the older boy. Opening his mouth to continue whatever it was he was about to say, he was cut off by the sound of Louis’ text tone. A cat like grin stretched across his features as he saw the excitement that flashed in his roommates cerulean eyes. “That’s him, isn’t it?” He asked, already knowing the answer. 

“No,” Lou said stubbornly, refusing to give Niall more ammunition in his escapades to make his life a living hell. He’d seriously have to reconsider why he even liked the Irish boy to begin with.  The younger boy rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Denial,” was all he said.

“Not denial!” Louis retorted, turning back to the box of DVDs so Niall couldn’t see his eyes. It was better that way. He’d always been able to tell when Louis was lying. Something about how he got this little line between his eyebrows or something like that. Whatever, little mind reading leprechaun, he thought bitterly.

“Then why won’t you check it?” The Irish voice pressed as he dug out as many of the cases as he could hold.

“Can’t. Hands are full,” he smiled over his shoulder, waving the DVDs for Niall to see and then started to walk away. 

“Lemme help you with that,” he replied and shoved his hand into Lou’s back pocket before he had time to register what he’d just said.

“Niall!” Louis’ voice shot up three octaves as he dropped the boxes and reached for his phone. It wasn’t like they’d been talking about anything bad. On the contrary, they’d been talking about the last song Louis had sent him via Twitter, but that wasn’t the point. Louis wanted to be the first person to see whatever it was the pop star said, and if he had to rip Niall’s hand off to do so, than so be it. The boy relinquished the phone easily, eyes dropping in disappointment.

“Oi, it’s nothing interesting anyway. New followers and such,” he sighed in defeat. The front door to the store opened, alerting them of their manager’s return. Looking much like a kicked puppy, Niall returned to the magazine rack to finish sorting through the shipment of magazines. Louis smiled and waved at his manager in an attempt to look like he wasn’t doing anything wrong, which, in all fairness, he hadn’t been. But knowing his manager, he could be saving a baby from a burning building and he’d still think Lou was up to something. After he stalked around the corner to his office, Louis glanced down at the phone that was now safely back in his hands. 

> You have 37 new followers

His follower count had steadily increased since Harry had followed him and started to talk to him. In fact, he was constantly being alerted by the website of his new followers, all who seemed to have some form of Harry’s name or the band’s name in their Twitter handle. But who am I to judge, he thought to himself as he scrolled through the new list of followers. In the past week alone he’d gained over 700 followers as the two boys’ conversations continued. Louis knew it wasn’t because they were interested in him, but rather seeing who this boy was that their Harry seemed to enjoy talking to. A boy could dream though. As he reached the bottom of the list, a tweet popped up on the screen. Speak of the devil.

> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson you haven’t sent me a song today and I’m feeling neglected. 

A small snort escaped Louis’ mouth as he read the tweet. Perfect little twat, he thought to himself as he imagined the boy looking lost without his daily music suggestion.

> @Harry_Styles I’d happily give you attention, but I’m at work stocking your DVDs #SoManyDVDsWithYourFace

 He chuckled to himself as he pushed the phone back into his back pocket, unaware of Niall’s watchful gaze. He’d never seen his best friend so happy as when he received any form of acknowledgment from Harry, which was worrisome since he’d never actually met the guy. Though he constantly teased the older boy, Niall really was concerned for his friend. They’d been friends for almost half of his life and he was certain no one ever made his eyes light up the way they did when his phone buzzed. God help Harry if he hurts him, he thought to himself, watching as Louis smiled brightly at the phone, reading another message, because if he does, hell hath no fury like an Irishman scorned.

***

> You still haven’t sent me a song

Harry sent via text as he lay on his bed, staring up at his ceiling. They’d been given a day off and instead of joining Liam and Zayn on an outing to get curry, he’d opted to stay at home and text the Twitter boy. He was aware of the concerned looks his friends had exchanged when he told them to go on without him, they’d only been giving them to him all week as he grew more and more attached to his phone. It wasn’t like he didn’t know they could see every tweet he’d posted in the past week— the vast majority being to Louis— and that they were intrigued by who this mystery boy was. They weren’t the only ones. The fans had started to analyze the messages sent back and forth and even started to follow the other boy. They had even started giving them a couples name, which dredged up many rumors that seemed to make their management team none too happy. Not that Harry cared though. After they’d called him in for a meeting about “this Louis Tomlinson fellow,” he’d made sure to DM him his number. They didn’t have to like who he was friends with anyways, he thought to himself as he hummed the last song he’d been sent and waited for a reply. The electronic device buzzed lightly on his chest.

> Dunno what to send tbh. Im havin song block D:

He chuckled lowly to himself, imaging the stranger to be as distressed as the capitol d colon implied he was.

> Calm down babe. It isn’t the end of the world

 Waiting for another reply, his mind wondered over the boy. Honestly, he didn’t know why he enjoyed talking to him so much. Sure, it felt nice to talk to someone who didn’t actually know you, but it was more than that. He felt almost as if this stranger could understand him. Like, really understand him. Not just understand the Harry that everyone had been presented. 

> Not to you maybe but im the lesser in this friendship. You go off and be famous and i supply you with excellent jams. Ive got nothing to offer but my great taste in music!

“Not true,” he spoke aloud to the phone. He had so much to offer, assuming he wasn’t lying about his whole entire identity. From what he’d gathered, not only did the boy have a brilliant iTunes library, but he’d wanted to become a singer as well, something that Harry could see happening assuming his voice was at least half decent. He had the looks, that’s for sure, he thought to himself as he recalled Louis’ twitter icon. He was remarkably tan for someone who lived in England, and his teeth gleamed brightly through the picture as he smiled. However, it was his bright eyes that always captured Harry when he looked at the older boy’s Twitter. They seemed to sparkle through the picture, conveying a light that most people couldn’t even manage in real life, let alone a 700k jpg picture. As he went to type a reply denying that he was any better in this friendship, his voice shook in his hand.

> What are you even doing home on a friday evening? Shouldnt you have parties?

In all technicality, Harry was sure there was a party somewhere if he really wanted to go. The only problem was he didn’t want to go. It’s not like anyone who threw those parties actually wanted Harry there, but Harry Styles of One Direction. No, he’d much rather be here, laying on his bed, texting a boy he’d never met. At least he seemed to actually want to talk with him for him.

> Believe it or not Mr. Tomlinson but I don’t have too many close friends

He answered honestly. Aside from the boys, he only ever texted his mom on a daily basis. It was okay though, he was quite used to it really. He wasn’t unpopular by any means in his high school, but that didn’t mean he had many friends either. Honestly, he preferred it that way, rather having a small amount of good friends instead of a large amount of acquaintances who didn’t actually want to know you. That didn’t mean that he didn’t often find himself feeling lonely though. 

> :( why not? I think youre great

Heat spread across his cheeks as he read the compliment. 

> Dunno. It isn’t a big deal though. Really. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought it up.

> But everyone needs to have at least one close friend

Harry started to chew on his bottom lip, not wanting to get into a deep conversation. Not yet anyway. Maybe if Louis knew that most people couldn’t see past the reputation he’d obtained, he wouldn’t be able to see past it either, and he just couldn’t handle that.

> Ive got close friends. Liam and Zayn :P

He attempted to lighten the mood with the smiley. It was ten minutes before Louis responded and Harry had started to worry that he’d said something to offend him. Maybe he should have added him to the list. If he were being honest, he really did consider the Doncaster boy as a close friend, he just couldn’t admit that to him. Who says a stranger is a close friend? That would just make him look weirder than he already was. His heart sank as he read the text.

> Well Harry im going to bed because its been quite a long day. But ill talk to you tomorrow yeah?

It was an abrupt goodnight. They’d stayed up late these past few nights texting, and now Louis was going to sleep at 10? Harry looked at his phone sadly. 

> Oh… okay… Goodnight Louis

With a heavy sigh, he set the phone back on his chest, letting the silence in the flat suffocate him as he stared up at the ceiling and let his sight fall in and out of focus. He was alone again, his two roommates off having a late night snack and the one boy he genuinely wanted to talk to probably off somewhere deleting his number and vowing to never talk to him again. The soft thrum of his phone startled him.

> @Louis_Tomlinson: Oh, btw @Harry_Styles I think you could do with a listen of [HEY LONELY](http://youtu.be/KkmM20Yu6A4) by Moonlight Social #Goodnight

A small grin played across his lips as he read the tweet. Maybe he was just tired after all. Pushing himself up from his bed, he sat down at his desk and opened an internet browser on his laptop. The song was a lot harder to find than the others, and he was about to give up when he stumbled across a hidden link. Clicking on it, he sat back and closed his eyes, listening intently to the song that started to play. 

“Please believe me, I would give it all to heal your heart. Just maybe where you need to be is where you are,” the song sang, causing Harry’s heart to clench. “Hey lonely, you are so much more than they deserve.” In general, he didn’t like country songs, but this one got to the very core of him. The lyrics got under his skin and he found himself replaying the song, imagining that the older boy had picked the song to convey a message. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Either way, he knew what song he was going to fall asleep to tonight.

***

Louis woke with a start, confused as to what could have possibly woken him from his deep sleep. Though he had told Harry he was going to bed early, he really just was scared to see what the famous lad would think about his latest suggestion. It was more personal than the others because it said everything he wished he could say to him, but knew he couldn’t. Louis wasn’t stupid. He knew Harry’s reputation, and Louis knew he was a few wrong body parts away from being what the celebrity would want. That fact didn’t stop his heart from aching when he read the texts from the boy saying he didn’t have many close friends. It didn’t make sense to him. As far as he could tell, he was one of the most down to earth people he’d ever been able to speak with, which was odd given he actually had the talent to back up not being that way. The song was from a lesser known band he’d happened to stumble upon, and he had hoped that Harry didn’t have too hard of a time finding them. 

Running his hand down his face in an attempt to wipe the sleep away, he turned his attention to his clock on his bed side table. Irritation caused his eye to twitch as he saw that it was 7:30 in the morning on his day off. Why the hell was he up? His eyes were dragged towards his phone. Well, he was up now, might as well check it. Pulling his arm out from under the sheets, he grabbed the phone and pressed the screen lock button, bringing the screen to life.

> What are you doing today?

So that’s why he was up. The irritation disappeared almost instantly as he read the text from Harry over again, letting his still sleepy brain catch up with him.

> Nothing its my day off why?

The reply was almost instantaneous. 

> When was the last concert you went to?

Louis was certain that even if he were fully awake he wouldn’t understand where this conversation was going. His brows furrowed as he tried to remember the last concert he had been to. It had been an embarrassingly long time. 

> Too long ago. Its embarrassing. Why?

As he waited, his eyes started to drift shut again. Harry could wait until it was a decent hour, he thought to himself as he was started to be tugged back into a blissful coma. Just as he was about to drift off completely, his phone went off again.

> Its our last show tonight for a while. Wanna come?

***

Niall fell out of his bed with a crash as a wail that sounded like a mix between a cat being trampled and a siren echoed through the flat. His head pounded as he pushed himself up from the ground. What the hell was that, he thought to himself, trying to catch his bearings. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he envisioned Louis being murdered in his room.

“Don’t worry, Lou! I’m comin’!” He yelled, running from his room. He’d be damned if someone killed his best friend on his watch. Head still spinning, he made the short journey from his room to Louis’, only vaguely aware of the fact that if his roommate really were in any trouble, he didn’t have a weapon to defend him. Throwing the door open, he tried not to look to disappointed when he found the older boy sitting in his bed, eyes wide and staring at his phone. “You woke me up because of a text from your wannabe boyfriend?!” He couldn’t help his voice from raising a few decibels above necessary, but could you blame him? He had been planning on sleeping in after all. Louis looked up at him, eyes still wide and shining brightly as he searched for what to say. “Come now, hit me with your best come back, because really, Princess, I have a lot of pent up aggression right now,” the Irishman said, becoming increasingly bitter as his friend just stared at him, mouth agape and blue eyes wide. Niall saw his mouth move, but didn’t hear any words.

“What was that, Lou? I can’t hear you over the ringing in my ears from your girlish scream,” he walked into the room and sat on the foot of Louis’ bed, contemplating just falling back asleep there when the older boy finally got the words out.

“We just got invited to meet One Direction.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

“I don’t see why you’re so worried, babe,” Zayn grinned at Harry impishly from where he stood leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve seen you at your worst and still love ya to bits, so no need to try and impress. Unless, of course, you’ve replaced me.” His voice was smug as he waggeled his eyebrows at his bandmate. Harry rolled his eyes and kept his gaze trained on his closet, ignoring the banter. He was not in the mood to have this conversation. On the contrary, he was willing his obnoxious friend to leave so he could just find a cute outfit instead. Not that he was trying to be cute for the internet stranger or anything. It was always important to look nice when going out. Yeah, thats why he was so worried. A shocked gasp filled the room in response to his stubborn silence.

“Oh my god, Liam, he did! He replaced me! Who is it!” Zayn’s loud voice demanded. 

“I bet it’s that bloke he’s been talking to on Twitter,” Liam drawled lazily, hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling from where he lay on Harry’s bed. He’d come in under the pretense of helping him pick out a decent outfit, but found himself napping on his plush bed instead after his and Zayn’s night out. Fat lot of help he was.

“Is it wrong to wanna look nice?” Harry growled in response, grabbing his favorite blue plaid shirt and appraising it. With his back turned, he missed the raised eyebrow Zayn shot Liam, who shrugged in response.

“Nah, mate, but you’ve never particularly cared before,” Zayn said as Harry thrust the shirt back into the closet with an aggravated huff. Maybe if he pretended they weren’t they, they would go away. “I mean, usually you just toss on that Lover shirt, pull a beanie on and out the door you go.” Silence filled the room as the youngest of the three did his best to give them the silent treatment. He probably would have felt a bit childish, but hey, being the youngest had its perks, and what was that if he couldn’t use the good ol’ silent treatment to his advantage.

“Oh come on, Haz, don’t be like that,” Liam sighed, flipping over and staring up at the standing boy, who still had his back turned to him, ignoring his best effort at the puppy dog eyes. “Tell Papa Payne what’s going on,” he sulked, fake pout and all. 

“First of all, what the fuck, mate, Papa Payne?” Harry snorted, grabbing for his black v neck. “You’re like, a year older than me. Second, nothing’s going on except for my two pratty roommates overanalyzing my wish to look nice.” He eyeballed the shirt before looking down at his black jeans. He supposed he could go black on black. That was cool, right?

“Still older than you,” Liam muttered, watching Harry finally decide on the black v neck. 

“And you know he acts like an old man,” Zayn countered, throwing a taunting smile to Liam, who aptly stuck his tongue out, you know, maturely of course. “But seriously, is Twitter boy gonna be making an appearance?” It’s like they never gave up, Harry thought as he tugged his current shirt off and pulled the black one on in its place.

“Louis,” he said through the shirt fabric.

“Hm?” The confused sound came from Liam he watched amusedly as Harry struggled to pull the shirt over his head.

“His name is Louis,” was all he replied, head popping out of the opening finally, unleashing his mess of curls that were now in even more disarray after the struggle. 

“Well, does it so happen that  _Louis_  is gonna be at this show?” Zayn remedied, crossing his arms across his chest. Harry finally turned to him, realizing that no matter how long he ignored the boy, he wouldn’t leave him alone. No, he was much too stubborn for that. 

“Fine. Yeah, I invited him,” he mumbled, noting how Zayn’s hair was flawlessly quiffed and his outfit was stylish and exactly the way he wished he could put together. Honestly, it wasn’t fair that the slightly older boy always seemed to be able to pull off a magazine spread look without even trying. Stupid Zayn with his stupid awesome style and his stupid awesome cheekbones.

“Invited him, eh?” He cooed. “It must be love,” he chuckled. 

“Oh piss off,” Harry grumbled, feeling his cheeks burn as he turned away from his friend again and went in search of a pair of socks. Like he could fall in love with someone he met on internet, he thought bitterly to himself, feeling the two sets of eyes burning into him as they watched him tear through his sock drawer. 

“Did you tell management about this?” Liam’s worried tone cut through the silence as Harry triumphantly found two matching socks. 

“No,” he commented back, vaguely aware that he sounded like a stubborn kid. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Liam shake his head and Zayn crack a smile.

“They won’t like that you’ve invited someone without telling them,” Liam’s authoritative voice was in full swing as he appraised Harry, trying to pull what he was up to from his mind.

“Good thing they won’t know until it’s too late,” he shot back. “Besides,” he set his hard green eyes on his friend, “I’m allowed to bring friends to shows, aren’t I?” 

“Yeah,” Liam sighed defeatedly, pushing himself off the bed, knowing that the conversation was done. Harry watched as he left the room, brushing past Zayn, who continued to stand there, watching Harry thoughtfully.

“What, Zayn?” He questioned, his tone a little harsher than he’d intended. He appreciated that they cared so much, but honestly, Louis was just a friend that he’d invited out to his show. It wasn’t like they hadn’t had friends come to watch.

“Nothing,” he shrugged, finally pushing away from the doorframe and turning to head down the hallway. He let out a sigh of relief that Zayn left without a fight, knowing there were a million things he could have said. Sometimes he knew when Harry just needed to be left alone. 

“I’m just excited to meet your potential fuck buddy is all!” Zayn’s voice rang through the hall and into Harry’s room, causing him to groan and flop backwards onto his bed. Apparently now was not one of those times.

***

On the other side of the city, Louis stood in front of his less impressive closet for what seemed like the hundredth time as he tried to pick an outfit. Unfortunately, every time he settled on one, he found something wrong with it. Niall sat on the edge of his bed, already styled and ready to go. Honestly, you’d think Louis would have already had a “In Case Of Meeting Hot Celebreities Outfit” planned for moments like these, he thought to himself. He watched intently as Louis’ hand reached out for what also seemed like the hundredth time.

“That’s it,” he muttered lowly, coaching his best friend on. “Just a little further, you can do it Lou!” Louis stopped and pulled his hand back away from the blue v neck, causing the Irishman to groan loudly. “Lou-eeeeeh,” he whined loudly, “Just pick something, for the love of God.”

“You can’t rush perfection, Nialler,” Louis said thoughtfully as he eyed his closet. With the amount of shopping he did, he was certain he’d have  _something_  he’d want to wear. Apparently past him hadn’t forseen that he would one day want to impress 18 year old wunderkind Harry Styles and his equally attractive bandmates. Not that he thought showing up in a good enough outfit would suddenly sway Harry from his feminine escapades and send him running into his arms, but one should always be prepared for anything. Besides, he didn’t want that to happen anyway. Friends. They were friends. 

“Seriously, Princess, at the rate you’re going you’re going to be the age your boy likes his women,” Niall’s voice cut through his inner monologue.

“Take that back!” He shouted, turning on his best friend, who just raised his hands.

“I can take it back all you want, but you know it’s true.”

“Can’t be true if they’re just rumors,” Louis replied lowly, turning back to the closet and grabbing the striped shirt that his eyes seemed to continuously drag back to. “What do you think?” He asked, holding the shirt up to his chest in an attempt to change the subject. Niall’s eyes lit up at the prospect of Louis finally making a decision.

“Aw, babe, you know I love you in stripes,” he purred, winking up at him. 

“Oh shut it,” Louis laughed, rolling his eyes at his roommate who just smiled widely at him.

“You love it,” he accused, punching at the older boy’s arm and completely missing. He really did, but he didn’t have to tell him that.

“Yeah, about as much as I love getting root canals,” Louis scoffed as he searched for his red trousers in his drawer. 

“You’ve never had a root canal, you prick,” Niall shot back with no malice, causing him to chuckle.

“Well no, but I can only imagine they aren’t pleasant.” Making a small sound of triumph, he pulled the trousers from the drawer. “Now, will you get out so I can change?” The Irishman sighed dramatically, pouting up at his friend.

“Not like I haven’t seen everything, Lou,” he teased as he stood from where he sat.

“You’re the worst. Leprechaun be gone!” Louis shooed, slamming the door behind his best friend. He smiled down at his outfit that was on his bed. God, he couldn’t believe he was going to meet Harry.

***

He hadn’t been nervous. Really, he hadn’t. After picking his outfit, he’d been nothing but a ball of energy, bouncing from one room to the next while urging time to move quicker. But now, as he stood in front of the arena, eyes wide as he stared up the building, he felt like her might throw up. It wasn’t the first time he’d been to this venue, but it was the first time he’d ever been instructed to call the person performing upon arriving. What if he didn’t like him? What is Harry wasn’t as amazing as he seemed. What were the lyrics to that one song? [“YOU LOOK BETTER FAMOUS?”](http://youtu.be/BWrNRg8hJEA) A couple of girls in handmade shirts walked by, giggling excitedly and clutching tightly to their posters they’d brought.

“Oi, ya gonna ring him?” Niall elbowed Louis in the ribs, causing him to jump. “As much as I enjoy hanging around outside, I’m dying to see all the faces when two blokes get let in before them.” Though Niall didn’t show it, secretly he was busting at the seams. He had watched Louis fidget all day, so he knew that one of them had to be the calm one, but dammit he hadn’t ever been this excited for anything since the day he’d finally gone to Nandos. And this was about twelve steps above delicious chicken. He’d never been backstage at a concert before, let alone the concert of a group like The Unholy Trinity, but he could only imagine that it was going to be awesome. He also imagined that afterwards they’d have this huge party and get wasted and he’d wake up next to Zayn or Liam. Of course, he could only keep his fingers crossed on that one. Miracles could happen. He watched Louis as he glanced down uneasily at his phone. “Something wrong?” The older boy took a breath.

“What if he doesn’t like real me, only internet me?” He asked, eyes wide with worry. Well if that wasn’t the biggest load of bullocks he’d ever heard.

“Louis Tomlinson, you listen to me and you listen to me good,” he said louder than he’d meant. With his eyes locked on his friend, he didn’t notice the small group of girls who turned their attention toward them. They especially didn’t notice when one of them snapped a quick picture on her phone. “Internet you is real you behind a keyboard so you call that boy and you get us in.” There was a brief pause.

“But Niaaaall,” Louis whined.

“Oh for the love of me mum,” Niall said exasperatedly as he snatched the phone from Louis. He clicked on the last text, knowing full well who it would be from, and calling the number. “Now you don’t want me to be holding this phone when he answers,” was all he said as he held the device at to Louis, eyebrows raised as he challenged him to test him. Louis grabbed the phone as he glared at the blonde, wishing there weren’t so many young ears around. He’d get him back for this.

“‘Ello?” The deep timbre rang through the phone, causing him to lose his breath. Sure he’d heard Harry talk in interviews and stuff, but his voice just sounded so much deeper on the phone. “‘Ello? Louis?” Shit, he should probably answer. 

“Hi.” Hi? Heaven help him. He mentally slapped himself as Niall laughed at his dismay. Prick. The popstar chuckled on the other end. 

“I’m assuming you’re here than,” his tone was bright and excited. Or maybe Louis was just projecting his feelings. Yeah, that was most likely it. 

“Uh, yeah. We are,” he replied slowly, trying to keep his breathing even. Dear lord, Harry probably thought he was slow. 

“Good,” the younger boy exclaimed. “Go towards he entrance and wait there, yeah?” He instructed. 

“Yeah, yeah. Alright.” Wow did Louis hope his ability of making words would come back by the time he was actually face to face with the perfect boy. 

“See ya soon,” Harry said brightly before the line went dead. He pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it dumbfoundedly, almost as if it would vanish.

“So…” Niall coaxed. “Are we good to go?”

“Uh.. yeah. He said to go wait by the entrance,” Louis answered slowly, still processing that in just a few minutes he’d be meeting not only One Direction, but Harry Freaking Perfect Styles. Okay, Tommo, he thought to himself, get it together. 

“Well than let’s go!” Niall grabbed his hand, pulling him roughly towards the doors where the line of thousands of teenage girls originated. Many of them looked at the boys confusedly as they stood awkwardly by the doors, unsure of what to do while they waited. One brave soul walked up to them, looking Louis dead in the eye, causing him to shift uncomfortably. 

“You look familiar,” she said. “Do Iknow you?” She gazed at him earnestly. Well that’s weird. He’d never been asked that before. 

“Uhm, no. I’m pretty sure you don’t,” he chuckled.

“Unless you shop at Foyles, in which case, you’ve most likely seen his ugly mug,” Niall stepped in. The girl’s eyebrows knit together. She opened her mouth to say something else when the door behind them opened, eliciting deafening screams from the line.

“Louis Tomlinson?” The burly gentleman with the earpiece asked, holding the door open to him. Her eyes widened in recognition, which was odd to say the least. Louis went to ask her what was wrong when he felt Niall tugging him into the building.

“Oh! You’re-” The door closed, cutting her off.

***

Though he had assumed that he’d see Harry as soon as he’d been let it, he was sorely mistaken. Apparently the band had things to do. Like a soundcheck and a signing before going and getting ready for the concert. The security guard who had been sent to get them had informed both he and Niall that though Harry had invited them, they weren’t actually allowed to see the band until afterwards since apparently he hadn’t cleared it with their management. Honestly, Louis hadn’t thought it’d be a big deal. It’d give him and Niall more time to prepare mentally to meet the band and maybe they’d have less chance of making fools of themselves. However, as the hours passed as they sat in an unused dressing room, his anxiety started to skyrocket as he considered all the things that could possibly go wrong. 

He was just a 20 year old uni dropout that worked at a bookstore in a section that didn’t even deal with books, he honestly could not think of any reason for the young celebrity to even care enough about meeting him to invite him and his best friend to their last show of the tour. It only got worse when the security guard came back to the room, informing them that the show was going to start and he was there to escort him to the side of the stage so they could watch from there. It got so bad, he was certain he would start hyperventilating. Niall glanced over at his friend, noting just how pale he was compared to his usually tan complexion. That couldn’t be good. Their little trio stopped off to the side of the stage as the lights started to dim. Niall threw his arms around his best friend quickly.

“Relax, Lou. Enjoy the show,” he whispered into his ear as the live band started to play the opener. He pulled away as the video screen flickered to life, counting back from 60 and flashing facts about the band as the crowd erupted in screams and flashing lights. The sight distracted Louis as he stared out into the audience from where he stood in awe of the scene. Goosebumps ran down his arms as they started to count down along with the video. Is this what it was like for them every night, he thought to himself as the countdown reached zero. The cheers reached the threshold of pain as the three band members ran in from the opposite side of the stage. A loud yell caused him to jump and tear his gaze from the crowd and fix upon Niall, who smiled at him brightly before shrugging.

“Enjoy yourself!” He shouted over the music before starting to dance foolishly. He felt himself start to ease and finally allowed himself to sneak a peek at Harry. He was singing his part and staring out into the sea of people, but his eyebrows were knit together almost as if he were annoyed. Even then he still seemed flawless as his voice melded perfectly with Zayn and Liam’s, both who were jumping around the stage and prompting the crowd to cheer louder. As Louis watched the youngest of the trio, the boy turned in their direction, heading to another spot on the stage when his bright green eyes flickered up to meet his stare. Louis felt himself suck in his breath as the boy’s demeanor changed completely. The annoyance in his eyes disappeared instantly and a crooked smile stretched across his face. Slowly, he raised his hand and waved at him before turning back to the audience. This was it. This must be what heaven was.

***

The rest of the show went on just as fast paced as it had opened. The crowd didn’t once stop screaming. In fact, Louis was certain they had somehow managed to get louder as the show had gone on. Not that he could blame them. He often found himself and Niall adding to the cheers and dancing from the sideline. He was pretty sure he’d seen Harry glance over and laugh at their antics a few times as well, which only made him feel giddier. Even Liam and Zayn seemed to get a kick out of the pair of strangers that were dancing offstage. Of course, that could have been wishful thinking, but no one had to know that. Finally, the concert came to a close, the boys making their thank you speeches and then performing their final song, which looked a hell of a lot more like wreaking chaos to him. They leapt off the stage and into the crowd, reaching out to as many fans as possible before their security was able to pull them all back and get them back on stage. Louis knew he liked them for a reason. The trio stood at the center of the stage now and took their bows before running off the stage, right in their direction. It seemed to be slow motion as the famous boys stepped closer, and the panic started to ease into Louis’ veins again.

“Ohmigod Niall I can’t,” he squeaked. Before his blonde friend could reply that he should just grow a pair, the trio was in front of him. Most importantly, Harry was in front of him. If Louis had thought he was perfect in magazines and interviews, he had been wrong. Most undoubtedly wrong, indeed. Film could never capture the radiance of his green eyes as they sparkled with adrenaline from the show he’d just performed. It also most certainly couldn’t capture the flush of his cheeks as he sucked in his breath, eyes locked on the infamous boy from Twitter he’d grown accustomed to speaking with. They both stood there in silence, eyes locked, completely ignoring the commotion around them as the live band exited the stage and the crowd started to filter out. 

“Boy in the striped shirt, huh?” Harry finally said, breaking the thick tension that had filled the air around them. 

“What?” Louis asked confusedly. Honestly, he felt so slow.

“Your shirt,” he nodded toward Louis’ ensemble. “‘The Boy in the Striped Shirt,’” he air quoted as he recited the description on the blue eyed boy’s Twitter profile. He felt his face heat up as he realized Harry actually paid that much attention.

“Uh, yeah,” he chuckled nervously. “Really, I didn’t even notice. I just like the shirt.” It wasn’t a lie. It was his favorite, so he didn’t really understand why he felt so stupid saying it. Probably because he was here with Harry and they were discussing his clothing. Wow, great first conversation, Lou.

“Me too,” Harry agreed, eying the shirt and causing Louis to blush deeper. He stretched his hand out suddenly. “Nice to finally meet you, Louis.” Oh my god, he thought to himself as he stared at Harry’s hand, he wants to shake hands.

“Nice to meet you too,” he managed to get out, smiling as he took the popstar’s hand. An electric shock rocked its way up his arm on contact, taking his breath away as he pulled his hand back.

“You shocked me,” Harry accused, looking down at his hand incredulously, almost as if he were certain it’d fall off. 

“No, I’m pretty sure you shocked me,” he replied childishly, crossing his arms and looking at the younger boy accusingly. They held each other’s gazes, almost as if whoever looked away first would prove just who caused the sharp shock of electricity to run through both their bodies. (As they had their small staring contest, Niall, Liam and Zayn watched on, all three already taking bets on how long it would take for them to jump each others bones.)

It was Louis who looked away first. 

“It’s funny,” Louis chuckled, looking down at the ground, slightly out of breath as he searched for anything to say to the famous boy that he still couldn’t believe was actually real. “The last concert I saw was at this venue.” One of Harry’s eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Oh really?” He said, the corner of his mouth tugging upward slightly. “And what concert was that?” Louis felt his heart pound rapidly. Jesus, calm down, it isn’t like you’re being interrogated, he commanded his racing pulse. He and Niall had made a pact before leaving the flat that neither of them would act anything less than normal, so he’d be damned if he did something like pass out. 

“Saw The Script. They’re quite good live,” he replied matter of factly. Harry’s lips pulled into a full crooked smile, unleashing the full force of his simple on Louis, who had to count back from 10 slowly to keep his cool. 

“I know,” the younger boy laughed, “I was at that show.” 

***

It wasn’t too long after the revelation that the two boys could very well have met before that the famous trio’s manager came to fetch them, informing them that it was time to go. They had all exchanged quick goodbyes and nice to meet you’s before heading in separate directions. Though the meeting was nowhere near as long as either of them had hoped, Louis and Niall still giddily walked to their cars, excitement buzzing through their veins. (Just getting to meet them was good enough anyway.) On Louis’ part, his smile was plastered on and probably wouldn’t be disappearing anytime soon. (He’d finally met Harry in real life and he didn’t think he was a freak and they would probably hang out again.) Niall, to the lack of Louis’ knowledge, was smiling thanks to the new number that was burning a hole in his pocket. He’d tell him eventually that Liam had added his number to his phone, but he wanted his friend to be happy about meeting Harry, because hello. He’d only been wanting to for forever now. It wasn’t until they got home that they realized just how exhausted they were and it wasn’t until they were both tucked into their beds that Louis’ phone went off.

> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson it’s my turn to suggest you a song. Check out[START A FIRE](http://youtu.be/K19PujclIU8) by Ryan Star ;) #NiceToMeetYouFinally #YouDefShockedMe

A small smile tugged on his lips as he drifted off to sleep, vowing to give it a listen as soon as he woke up. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

Harry sat at the long table, leaning back in one of the many office chairs with his feet propped up on the long meeting table and idly twiddling his thumbs as he waited for Simon to come in. It was never a good sign when the man called anyone in for a one on one meeting, especially when it was with him. The memory of their last private meeting flickered through his mind as he sat there, counting the tiles in the ceiling. Simon had implored him to cease communication with Louis, which had caused their biggest fight yet. It wasn’t like Harry disliked the man or anything, and he understood that everything he did, he did because he wanted to help protect the band, but he’d be damned if they controlled who he was friends with. The argument had reached the point where Harry just stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving a less than amused Simon in his wake. Since then he’d refused to speak to the man, opting to have his messages relied by Zayn or Liam, but now that he was alone in that room again, he had no choice but to face him. Really, he probably should have seen it coming. It wasn’t like he didn’t know inviting Louis to the show without telling anyone beforehand would cause problems. A lot of problems actually. He had never fought with Paul until then when he’d told him that he couldn’t see the older boy until after the show because he hadn’t been cleared to be there and it was for “safety reasons.” However, when he tried to call him on the bullshit, he’d reminded him that he was lucky they were letting this mystery boy and his friend stay at all, which got Harry to shut up about it, but he sure as hell didn’t pretend like he was okay with it. And he didn’t. The rest of the afternoon he’d spent giving everyone on the management team his best glare, only speaking to them in short, clipped sentences. Looking back on it, he could admit he was being childish, but he had been wanting to meet the boy from the internet so badly and he had been so close and yet so, so far. He’d actually been worried he wouldn’t be able to perform because of the mood he’d been in to be honest. He’d never been so agitated that he could bring himself to be excited when looking out on the crowd, but there had to be a first for everything, right? But then he’d  seen that Louis really was standing on the side of the stage, just as he’d been promised he would be. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he mentally pictured the boy standing there with a goofy grin etched across his face and a tight striped shirt. And do not even get him started on those pants…

The door of the meeting room opened suddenly, banging against the wall as it was pushed open and causing him to jump and sit up in his seat. His wide green eyes settled on Simon, who stood in the doorway with a mildly disapproving look as his eyes landed on Harry’s propped up feet. He scrambled quickly to get them off before remembering that he was still mad at Simon and therefore should have been acting like a normal 18 year old would to any authoritative figure. Dammit, he thought as he caught the small nod of approval from the man as he gently closed the door behind him.

“Harry, we need to talk,” he said seriously as he walked into the room and sat in the seat across from him. Well, no shit. 

“No offense, but I already figured that when I got your message telling me to come in,” Harry said defiantly. Simon shot him a warning glare, which he shrugged off. He didn’t want to hear what management had in store for him now, and he really didn’t want them to waste his time telling him things he already knew. Just spit it out, he thought to himself.

“Seeming as you’re young and can’t possibly be showing signs of memory loss yet, I’m assuming you remember our little chat last week,” he preambled, watching the boy closely.

“Unfortunately,” Harry replied sharply, holding Simon’s gaze. He probably wasn’t helping his case much, a thought that was solidified as the older man’s eyes hardened.

“Then I find it safe to assume that you didn’t heed my warnings and stop speaking with  _the boy_ ,”  he added an emphasis on the last two words that sounded harsh. Harry didn’t like the way he almost spat the words.

“Louis,” Harry corrected. “He’s more than just  _the boy_ ,” he attempted to mimic Simon’s tone, “he has a name.”

“Be that as it may, Harry, you obviously haven’t stopped talking to him.” His voice was all business. Harry knew that voice well. Honestly, he missed the days when he could have a conversation with Simon without hearing that voice.

“I told you I wouldn’t. We haven’t been talking on Twitter nearly as much though, so that should please you,” he replied, finally dropping his eyes from his boss’. 

“You were supposed to not encourage the fans who seem to be catching on to the fact that you may not be as into all these pretty girls as it may seem.” 

“I haven’t been,” was all Harry replied, eyes still down.

“Really?” Simon’s voice was suddenly incredulous. “Than what is this?” He asked, holding out his blackberry. A tweet was pulled up on the screen: 

> @Gabby1D_93: Omg you guys @Louis_Tomlinson is here to see @Harry_Styles! #LarryIsReal

The picture showed Louis, eyes wide with what Harry could only guess was panic. His blonde friend— Niall, was it?— looked like he was really into what he was saying, gesturing down to what looked like a phone in the other boy’s hand. If he wasn’t mistaken, it looked like Louis had been quite nervous, an idea that caused butterflies to erupt low in his belly. (Butterflies? What the hell was that about?) He bit hard on his lip to keep the small grin contained, knowing it would just make things worse. 

“Do you have any idea how many retweets and likes this has?” Simon asked, not waiting for an answer.

“Not a clue,” he replied honestly. He hadn’t had a chance to check his at mentions between getting home last night and getting called in this morning. He’d seen the “Larry Shippers” though. He quite liked them if he were being quite honest, though he’d never tell Simon that as he was sure that would cause him to have a coronary. Actually, now that he thought about it…

“A lot more than there should be,”  he remarked, voice still dead even. “And then need I remind you of last night’s tweet?” He really didn’t, but Harry was intrigued to see what he had to say about it. Taking his silence as a prompt, Simon pulled up another screen on his phone and cleared his throat.

“Is this love or, just sexual desire? We’re gonna start a fire,” he read. Oh yeah, he forgot those were the lyrics. Okay, no he didn’t but if anyone asked, he sent them because the blue eyed boy had practically set his arm on fire with that shock. It most certainly wasn’t because he was trying to flirt with him or anything. 

“Look, I didn’t send that as anything. He’d shocked me when we shook hands and I wanted to find a song that kind of went with that,” he shrugged, giving up his tough guy act. If he wanted to get out of there, he’d have to attack this a different way. 

“But these “Larry” fans think it’s something. What if this boy thinks it’s something because of it!” Simon dropped his business charade as well, worry finally seeping into his voice, causing Harry to sigh.

“Louis,” he corrected again. “And trust me, Uncle Simon,” he used the nickname the boys had used during the X Factor, knowing it’d soften him up a little, “he doesn’t even check those.” He wasn’t lying about that. Harry had asked Louis once if he ever checked his at mentions, especially now that he’d gained so many followers. (If he remembered correctly, he had now reached about 7,000 within the past week?) Only once, he had said, and after seeing that the majority of them were really just replies to Harry and they just hadn’t deleted his Twitter handle out of the tweet, he didn’t see the point in going through them. Besides, he’s said, if anyone important tweeted at him it went straight to his phone.

“How do you know?” Simon replied, easing up a little as the nickname did it’s trick.

“Because he said so.” The man gave him an skeptically. “What?!” 

“People lie, Harry,” he said gently. Harry rolled his eyes, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“I can call him right now and prove to you that he doesn’t,” he said challengingly. He didn’t like the idea of Louis lying to him, and he really didn’t like the idea of Simon thinking he would. His boss paused for a moment as he thought.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Give him a ring.”

***

Louis stared at the lyric page of the [SONG](http://youtu.be/K19PujclIU8) he’d been sent. He had looked them up because really, he was quite certain he had to have heard the words wrong. But there they were in black and white— or rather, periwinkle and black. Thank you AZ Lyrics. 

> Just lose control and let your body give in,
> 
> To the beat,
> 
> Of your heart as my hand touches your skin

The song blared from his speakers as he reread them for the hundredth time. If Louis wasn’t so sure of Harry being straight as an arrow, he would have thought the famous boy was flirting with him. Good thing he knew better. Alright, even though he knew that they were probably just some cheeky jab at him, they still unleashed a torrent of butterflies in his stomach that were absolutely nauseating. He could pretend, right? As long as he didn’t get carried away, there was no reason he couldn’t pretend that the song was Harry flirting with him via social network. The song started to come to a close. That won’t do, he thought to himself as he pulled his iTunes library back up and restarted it. It really was a good song. Fictitious flirtations aside, it was a quick tempoed song that got under his skin and made him want to move and the man’s voice was amazing. He went to search more of his songs when his phone started to ring. Without looking at the caller ID, he picked it up. It was probably just Niall calling to confirm what cereal Louis wanted. He did this every time it was his turn to do the grocery shopping.

“I get the same cereal every time, you prick. Shouldn’t you know that by now?” He asked, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder as he typed the singer’s name into Google. A deep chuckle was not what he expected to hear.

“No, I don’t think we’ve discussed favorite cereal yet,” Harry’s voice replied lightly, causing him to almost drop the phone. 

“Ohmigod,” he squeaked, barely catching the phone. “Harry! I’m sorry! Niall’s out getting groceries and he always calls even though I’m sure he only does it to annoy me because who wouldn’t know by now that I get the same cereal always, I mean, we’ve only been friends forever and-” he cut himself off. Oh God, he was rambling. This could not be how their phone conversations were always destined to be. “-Uh, I mean. Hey. What’s up?” Harry laughed again before someone clearing their throat interrupted him. That didn’t sound too good.

“Oh, nothing much, just wondering if you still have your ‘No Reading At Mentions’ thing going,” he said nonchalantly. Harry had asked him about if he checked his at mentions before, which he found rather odd. He didn’t because none of them seemed to really be at him anymore. Not that he minded. He figured as much. His follower count had exploded within the past week and he would bet an obscene amount of money that none of them were actually interested in his day to day life. (Not that that means he didn’t try to keep them entertained with funny, 140 character long stories of his day.) But he figured that would be the end of Harry asking about it. Unless there was something there that he shouldn’t see, in which case he should definitely check them. He placed the phone back on his shoulder.

“Of course, why would I want to read my mentions? The one time I did, they were all just replies to you anyway,” he remarked as he pulled twitter up on his browser. Honestly, telling him not to look had been like telling a child not to press a button. If Harry were Louis’ mother or Niall, he would have known that. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t. 

“See, are you happy?” Harry hissed to the mysterious throat clearer. 

“Who ya talkin’ to?” Louis asked, only half listening as his eyes scanned over the messages that had flooded his mentions section. One in particular caught his eye.

“Oh, no one. Uh, I have to go now. Important band stuff and all,” the younger boy said abruptly. Had Louis been paying closer attention, he would have been worried he’d said something wrong. Be that as it may, he read the tweet.

> @OneThingRachel: Omg just saw a picture of @Louis_Tomlinson going to see @Harry_Styles at @onedirection’s last show of tour. #LarryIsReal

“Yeah, uh huh, okay,” he mumbled as he clicked on the hashtag. What the hell was “Larry?”

“Uhm, I’ll talk to you later?” Harry sounded uncertain, momentarily pulling all of Louis’ attention back to him. Why would he have any reason to sound uncertain?

“Of course, Harry! I’ll talk to you later,” he smiled even though the younger boy obviously couldn’t see him. The line went dead and he tossed the phone onto the couch beside him. Most of the tweets with the hashtag were retweets of a picture of him and Niall outside of the venue, which was weird. Why were people taking pictures of him? He scrolled down, only stopping when he saw something that didn’t link to the same, rather embarrassing photo of him having a panic attack. None of the tweets, however, informed him of what “Larry” was, though he could only assume it was a mash up of their names. He’d read enough gossip sites to know that mashing peoples’ names together was the thing to do. The icon of one of those gossip sites caught his eye and he stopped to read the tweet, jaw dropping slightly.

> @sugarscape: Call us a bunch of romantics, but we do hope young Hazza gets with this Louis fellow. We quite like his bum. #MakeItSoHazza #LarryIsReal

Wait. So people wanted them to be together? His eyes traveled down the page a ways.

> @1D_Girl_: Did you see that song @Harry_Styles sent @Louis_Tomlinson? He obvs wants in his pants. #ToldYouHeLikedPeen #LarryIsReal

***

Niall tripped up the stairs with five bags of groceries hanging from each arm. He could make it one trip, dammit. He hated when it was his turn for groceries. Sure, he loved to eat the food, but he sure as hell didn’t like buying the food. There were just so many options and how was he really supposed to choose? He’d gotten in trouble numerous times actually for spending more than he was supposed to on different brands of the same thing just because he couldn’t decide which would be better. They all had to be delicious, right? That was pretty much the reason he called Louis every time he went out. Not because he actually forgot what cereal he always got— hello, he was his best friend after all, give him some credit— but because he could always count on Louis to give him a friendly reminder to just pick up one brand. But as he’d been about to call his friend (he had been standing in front of a display of crisps, all in which had been calling out to him to buy them and who was he to deny them?) when his phone buzzed, signaling a new text.

> so is it safe to assume you didnt want to talk to me after all?

A small squeak had escaped his throat when he read LIAM MOTHERFUCKING PAYNE as the contact. Ohmigod, he thought as he’d stared at the screen. He hadn’t thought the guy had really meant it when he told him to text him. He thought he was just being nice because he was Liam Payne and being nice was his thing. Without looking up from his phone, he grabbed a bag from the display and tossed it in the cart. Typing up his reply was more important anyway.

> Noooo, I do! I’m buying groceries, so I was preoccupied is all

The rest of the shopping excursion had continued in that manner. Niall had his nose buried in his phone the whole time, only vaguely aware of what he was picking up and tossing in his cart. Maybe Liam was the answer to his shopping problems. 

Niall smiled to himself as he felt the phone vibrate in his pocket with Liam’s latest response when he missed the top step and tripped, almost dropping all the bags.

“Fuck and shit and tits!” He yelled, catching himself before he could do something like fall down the stairs to his doom. It’d be hard to text Liam from his grave after all. Luckily, their flat was just a few feet away from where he was now, and he was certain he and the groceries could make it that far without any major incident. As he neared the door, desperately wanting to rid himself of his cargo so he could reply, he heard the sound of music floating from beneath their door. Oh no, Niall thought as he recognized the song. After struggling to get the keys from his back pocket, he finally got the door open and was promptly hit in the face with the sound of Louis’ voice mingling with that of [ANNIE LENNOX](http://youtu.be/zLykoLuljWM)’s.

“God, it makes me be so blue, every time I think about you. All of the heat of my desire, smokin’ like some crazy fire,” Louis belted out, back turned towards the door as he stood atop their couch. Niall knew this song well. It was Louis’ anthem when he finally fell for someone, and it turned him into a complete diva. Niall quietly closed the door, trying not to disturb his roommate, quite enjoying the show. “Come on here, look at me, where I stand. Can’t you see my heart burnin’ in my hands?” Niall chuckled as his friend started to dance to the music. At least, he thinks it counted as dancing. Louis started to parade across the couch, almost as if it were a stage, and he pointed out to his “audience.” “Do you want me? Do you not? Does it feel cold, baby? Does it feel hot?” As he watched on, Niall honestly wondered how his friend wasn’t able to make a music career happen. He loved Lou’s voice. It was different. There was this raspiness to it that very few people had and he really did like to listen to his best friend sing. And he wasn’t biased about it at all, because he’d definitely tell him to shut it if he didn’t. His fingers started to protest as blood flow started to get cut off by the bags. 

“Oi, Princess!” He called out, causing Louis to squeak and trip off of the couch, landing next to the coffee table. “It was a beautiful performance, really, it was, but if you don’t help me right now, your only audience member is going to be fingerless.” His roommate’s head popped up over the side of the couch and glared at him

“How long have you been there?!” He cried. 

“Long enough to know that you’ve officially fallen for Harry,” he retorted. “And don’t deny it!” He cut Louis off as he opened his mouth. “That was 9.5 on the performance scale. You don’t just sing  _and_  dance for anyone, Lou.” He teased. Well, only half teased. As the older boy pushed himself off the floor and came to grab some of the bags, Niall watched him. He really couldn’t recall a time he’d seen Louis so happy. He was practically glowing and there was a sparkle in his eye and it was utterly infectious. He found himself smiling as they walked to the kitchen to start putting things away. He loved seeing his roommate this way, even if he was a little worried about how quickly he’d become attached to the famous boy. He’d have to ask Liam about Harry, he decided. He’d like to know a little more about the reason he was sure to get more shows from Louis for. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

Liam and Harry were sitting on the couch, the former lazily flipping through channels in search of anything that couldn’t be classified as trash TV and the latter staring intently at his phone, the ghost of a smile playing across his lips. Harry’s feet were propped up on Liam’s lap as his long body stretched along the plush leather seat. This was usually how the seating went when it was just the two of them, mainly because Harry was a little brat and wouldn’t take no for an answer. After arguing  that his back hurt and “you can just sit on the recliner than, Liam,” he finally gave in, allowing the younger boy to toss his feet into his lap. Sure, he could have sat in the recliner, but this seat was the only spot where the TV didn’t have a glare— it was also the comfiest and he had called eternal dibs— and he wasn’t gonna let Harry’s rather large feet keep him from sitting there. After settling on the latest episode of the X Factor, he set the remote down on the coffee table and peaked at Harry from the corner of his eye. The boy still had his eyes trained on his phone, chewing on his lip with a mischievous glint in his eye. It had been a week since they’d met the mysterious Louis and his loud Irish friend Niall, and it seemed Harry was as inseparable from his phone as ever, if that were even possible. Not that Liam could say much. He’d been texting Niall everyday since he’d given him his number at the show, but that was beside the point. Every conversation he and Niall had always ended up with the blonde asking him about Harry’s feelings for Louis. From the sounds of it Louis was pretty far gone for the curly haired boy, and the Irishman was looking out for his friend, but honestly, anytime Liam asked Harry, he found a way to change the subject. It had gotten to the point that he didn’t even try and just told Niall he knew nothing so they could get back to their normal texting. It hardly ever worked though and he often found himself devising plans with the boy to get Harry to fess up. He didn’t approve of any of them though, especially the ones that led to his friend being beat with a butter sock until he talked. Really, if Niall wasn’t so cute, he probably would have turned him in by now for being psychotic. Woah. Cute, where did that come from?

“You okay there?” Harry’s deep voice cut through his thoughts, causing him to snap back to the present.

“Huh?” He said dazedly, fully looking at Harry, who shrugged.

“You looked like you were having a pretty hardcore inner struggle, is all,” he said off handedly, looking at Liam over the screen of his phone. A cat like grin stretched across his face. “Either that, or you have to fart pretty bad.” Rolling his eyes, Liam smacked the top of Harry’s foot, causing the younger boy to yelp.

“I was just thinking,” he replied after a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He really should ask Harry about Louis. Not for Niall, but just because he was his friend and that’s what friends did. (Okay, maybe a little for Niall. He could only imagine how happy he’d be to finally have his answer. Not that it mattered to him if Niall was happy or not.) 

“Bout what?” Harry asked, attention already back on his phone as he only half listened for Liam’s response. Well, it was now or never.

“You and Louis,” was all he said, keeping his eyes on Harry to catch his response. The younger boy froze, shoulders tensing as his eyes flickered up to meet his before letting out a sigh. 

“What about me and Louis?” His voice was cautious as he set his phone down for the first time in what seemed like weeks. There was a moment of silence as Liam chose his next words carefully, knowing Harry could easily ignore him if he gave him the chance. He was a crafty little shit. Clearing his throat to cut through the slight tension, he finally spoke.

“You guys talk a lot,” was all he said, leaving it open ended. Harry held his gaze before sighing again, this time in defeat.

“Yeah, we do.” His eyes started to flicker to focus on anything but Liam, who could see his flatmate’s obvious discomfort. He knew management had called him in a couple times since he’d  started talking with the boy from Twitter, and he could only assume it was about that, but seeing his reaction now only confirmed it. Liam felt bad, knowing it couldn’t be pleasant to hide who you really were. He patted the top of Harry’s legs soothingly.

“It’s alright, mate, you know I’d never judge you,” he nudged gently. There was another tension filled silence before Harry finally answered. 

“I just really like him, Li,” he confessed, green eyes wide and looking for some sort of comfort as they locked onto his. He’d never seen Harry look so vulnerable before. Not even when it’d come to Zayn, and even though he played it off as just a crush, Liam had played part in numerous drunk confessions from the young boy about his feelings for his bandmate. They had obviously subsided since, but he’s never forget the look Harry had in his eyes whenever he talked about Zayn. It was like that really, only multiplied by like, a hundred. It would have been cute if he didn’t know just how much shit his friend could get into if anyone found out. “What do I do?” Harry asked quietly. Honestly, he had no idea. Dammit, this was all Niall’s fault. He should have left it alone.

“I-” he cut himself off, not sure what to say. “Does he like you?” He asked lamely, though he already knew the answer. Harry moaned loudly and pulled his feet from Liam’s lap and pulled his knees up to his chest.

“I don’t know, he probably thinks I’m fucking weird and probably doesn’t understand why I’m famous at all,” he mumbled before pressing his face into the tops of his legs. A soft snort escaped Liam’s mouth at Harry’s slight overdramatics. 

“I highly doubt that,” he chuckled, scooting closer to the curly haired boy. Really, REALLY doubt that, he thought to himself as he thought back to a week ago when Niall had called him to tell him about walking in on Louis serenading an imaginary audience with an Annie Lennox song. If he were being quite honest, he already liked the guy and totally approved, but he couldn’t tell Harry that. No one knew that he and Niall were talking after all. It was like they were undercover. 

“Like you’d know.” Harry’s voice oozed pout, and he could only imagine the look that would be unleashed on him if the boy were to look up. Liam chuckled again before throwing his arms around his bandmate.

“It’s alright, Haz. I’m sure he realizes how amazing you are,” he soothed, patting the top of Harry’s curls. 

“You have to say that, you’re paid to put up with me,” his muffled voice vibrated against Liam’s shirt.

“Be that as it may, he would still be stupid to not like you at least a little,” Liam pressed on, letting his certainty bleed into his voice. If he could, he would have just put the boy out of his misery. Of course, if they kept going the way they were going, he probably would. He could handle seeing this vulnerable Harry. It was so unlike him, and his Daddy Direction instincts were kicking in. He pulled away as Harry started to uncurl from his ball.

“You think so?” He asked, voice small, and eyes still wide, but the tensions evaporating from his shoulders finally. Liam smiled widely at him.

“I know so,” he nodded before scooting back to his spot on the couch and patting his lap to signal Harry to put his feet back. After shaking his head slightly, he complied.

“Well, now that we’ve gotten  _that_ cliche conversation out of the way,” his voice had his original cheeky tone to it again as he picked his phone back up. A comfortable silence fell over the room as Liam watched some solo artist cover an Adele song, listening as Harry’s fingers padded quietly over the touchscreen of his phone, typing up his reply to Louis. As he sat there, half his attention on his bandmate and half his attention on the TV, he was struck with an idea.

“Let’s throw a party,” he said abruptly.

“What.” Harry deadpanned, furrowing his eyebrows together. It would be perfect, Liam thought to himself, ignoring the look he was receiving from Harry. Louis could come, Harry would be happy and Niall would come and he would be happy. It was brilliant really.

“Yes, a party,” he said, more to himself than Harry.

“Are you sure you’re feelin’ alright, Li?” Harry asked, looking at the older boy with genuine concern now. This was Liam ‘I’m A Saint’ Payne. He didn’t suggest them throwing parties.

“Of course I am, why would you ask?” He asked, shifting uneasily as he noticed Harry’s scrutinizing green eyes surveying him.

“It’s just you don’t usually say we should throw a party. Actually, you usually fuss at us and then remind us about what happened last time we threw a party in the flat.” And rightfully so. It had been a mess. That was almost two months ago and they were still finding areas that were slightly sticky from spilt alcohol. Never again, Liam had explained from where he was on his hands and knees scrubbing at the tile of their kitchen. 

“Oh, you know,” Liam chuckled, suddenly nervous. What if Harry wouldn’t go with it? What if he pressed the issue? He didn’t think he could keep up a good lie to keep him at bay long enough. He continued on, hoping that Harry didn’t catch his unease, “I just figured it’s around that time and if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?” Harry’s eyes still watched him warily, and confusedly. The situation had just done a complete 180, and if he were being honest, he wasn’t sure what was going on. But if Liam was suggesting a party, who was he to deny him. Zayn would be ecstatic to hear about it, that is if he ever got his lazy ass out of bed.

“And you could invite Louis!” Liam said chipperly. Harry bit his lip as he glanced down at his phone. Invite Louis to their flat? Could he handle that?

***

Niall had been acting weird. Well, weirder than usual. Louis pretended not to notice his friend as the boy looked from his phone, to Louis and back to the phone, with a wide grin that could only spell trouble. He knew that grin all too well and it only ever came accompanied with grief. For him of course, not for Niall. This hadn’t been the first time this had occurred. Actually, it’s been happening since Niall walked in on his lovely rendition of “Wonderful,” which he caught the Irishman humming whenever Louis was near. Little twat. As the week progressed Niall became more and more attached to his phone, looking up at Louis before grinning  _that_ grin and turning back to type up some reply to someone Louis still didn’t know who it could be. Every time he tried to peak over his roommates shoulder, he’d get a violent smack to the head before Niall would run off, phone still safely in his grasp. It was quite aggravating and Louis wasn’t used to being denied, especially not by Niall. Sure, he’d put up a fight, but he almost always gave in. That’s just how it was. They gave each other a hard time but never actually said no. He also wasn’t used to the blonde giving his attention to someone else, and he’d be lying if a bit of the aggravation wasn’t in part to the mild jealousy that flared up when he saw Niall smiling at the electronic device. Not that he really had much room to talk. He and Harry had been texting nonstop since the show, even occasionally calling each other, which was a major step up given Louis could actually make coherent sentences now. But that wasn’t the point. Niall was his best friend, and he’d be damned if he didn’t find out who he was talking to. He glared at the boy, who obliviously typed away at his phone, that shit eating grin on his face. Maybe if he stared hard enough something would happen. Like maybe Niall would notice and spill the beans. Or maybe his head would explode. Really, Louis wasn’t gonna be too picky on this one.

“Oi, Lou!” Niall shouted, though he was right there, causing him to jump. 

“No need to shout,” he winced as he rubbed his ear. “What do you want?” Louis attempted to sound bitter, in hopes the younger boy would notice. He didn’t.

“What are we doing this weekend?” Was all he asked, not looking up from his phone. What the hell kind of question was that, Louis thought to himself, the real question is who the hell are you talking to?!

“Nothing that I know of,” he replied, not even bothering to sound like he wasn’t pouting, which still didn’t catch the Irishman’s attention. As if almost on cue, Louis’ phone vibrated in his pocket. He’d been waiting for a reply from Harry for about thirty minutes and he’d been getting antsy. Not that that had anything to do with his irritation or anything, because who cares if one of their friends takes awhile to respond.

Saturday. Party. My place. Wanna come?

He felt his eyes grow wide as he read the text over again. (Really, squealing has got to stop being his go to reaction for moments like this.) Biting his lip to keep from embarrassing himself— again— he glanced from the phone and back up to Niall, who was also biting his lip as he watched Louis. It looked an awful lot like he was trying to keep himself from smiling. Well wasn’t  _this_  a coincidence. 

“Scratch that, Lucky Charms. We’re going to a party.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

The rest of the week had gone by painstakingly slow. So slow in fact, that Louis was quite certain he’d been in the Twilight Zone. Why else would it feel like an hour was actually ten. It was driving him crazy, to be quite honest, and he was pretty sure he, in turn, was driving Niall crazy. But at least it had gotten him to leave the blonde alone about who he was constantly talking to on the phone now. He had more important things to worry about anyway, like what to wear. 

Finally though, it was Saturday evening, and they were  _finally_  going to go to the One Direction flat. Except if Niall had his way, it wouldn’t be for another couple of hours.

“Niaaaaaall,” Louis whined, well aware he sounded like a five year old. “I’ve waited so looooong.” His friend snickered at his dismay from where he sat on the couch watching some recording of some reality show. 

“Lou, when was the last time you went to a party?” Niall asked, turning to look at Louis, who stood by the door, jacket and shoes one and ready to go. 

“I dunno,” it’d been a few months actually. “The same as your last time, how bout that?” He countered, sticking his tongue out. Definitely like a five year old. Niall shook his head at his friend.

“Well, babe, it isn’t cool to show up when it starts. Makes you look overzealous,” he remarked, turning back to the show. 

“Do you even know what overzealous means?” Louis asked, questioning his friend’s use of the SAT word.

“Duh, you twat, I work with books, remember.” Louis shot daggers at the back of Niall’s head, knowing he was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “You can glare all you want, princess, but you know I’m right.” Ugh, it was like he was psychic. With a low grumble, Louis walked towards the couch and plopped down next to his roommate. “That’s a good boy.” Niall cooed.

“Oh, shut it,” Louis scoffed, punching his arm. 

“Oi! Try to help you seem cool, and this is how you repay me?!” He cried playfully, clutching at his heart. “I’m genuinely hurt, Lou.”

“Yeah, yeah. When  _can_  we go, than?” Louis pressed. Because really. He was ready to be there. Glancing at the clock of their DVR, he shrugged.

“Two hours, yeah?” He said, sounding more like a question than an answer.

“Two hours!” The older boy cried. Might as well torture me while you’re at it, he thought to himself.

“Seriously, what’s two more hours?” The Irishman asked incredulously, not looking away from the TV. 

“Two hours is forever when every single hour feels like a day!” Wow, he sounded like a prat.

“Don’t be so overdramatic, Princess. You’ll live,” he assured, patting Louis on the knee, signaling the end of the conversation. Rolling his eyes, Louis turned his attention to the TV, not particularly pay attention. Suddenly the images from the last party he’d been to skittered across his mind’s eye. It hadn’t been pretty, and had involved a lot of alcohol, and from what he heard, one hell of a table dance.

“Niall?” He asked tentatively.

“Yeah?” The blonde asked exasperatedly, expecting his friend to have another counter to why they should leave now. Honestly, he’d probably give in. He really wanted to get to the party too. You know, because it’d been so long. Not because of Liam or anything.

“Can we promise not to relive last time?” Niall couldn’t help but chuckled at the worry in his friend’s voice.

“You mean not let  _you_  relive last time?” He amended. It had been pretty bad. He would always carry the memory of Louis dancing on a table with him. He often saved it for bad days when he needed a pick me up. Not that he’d tell him that, of course.

“Yes,” the older boy sighed, “don’t let  _me_ relive last time.” 

“Deal,” Niall held his pinkie out for his friend to take. “Here’s our pact to not drink so much we dance on a table and knock out the host with our terrible dance moves!” He exclaimed as Louis wound his pinkie with his, eliciting another sigh from the boy.  A silence fell over the pair as they turned back to the show. Every few seconds, Louis’ eyes flashed back to the clock, growing increasingly anxious to leave. He only made it five minutes before turning back to Niall.

“Are you sure we can’t go now?” He whined. Niall’s head flopped back as he groaned loudly. It was going to be a long two hours.

***

Harry would be lying if he said he hadn’t been watching the door since he’d texted Louis that he could just come on in when they got there. It was for the best, after all. The chances of him hearing a knock on the door or the doorbell over the booming bass of the playlist he’d painstakingly put together  were slim to none. So though he he made sure to keep up on his host duties, his eyes flickered every few seconds to the door, awaiting the moment it would open and the handsome boy would be on the other side. Before the party, he’d resolved to keep his alcohol intake to a minimum, terrified of repeating “The Zayn Incident” with Louis, though as he party neared the two hour mark and there was still no sign of him, he found himself really wanting to hit up the shots table. With one last look towards the door, which remained stubbornly closed, he nodded toward the group he’d been with, signaling the the end of his part in the conversation and made his way towards the table that he knew he’d find Zayn running some sort of shots game that could probably send a few of its contestants to the ER to get their stomachs pumped. 

“‘EY! ‘ARRY!” Zayn cheered as he came into the Bradford boy’s line of vision. “You’re just in time for the next round!” Quickly, he started to throw together what looked like a mini Screwdriver. 

“What exactly is the game we’re playing?” Harry asked as Zayn passed the overflowing shot glass to him, the liquid spilling over the edges and onto his fingers. Zayn shook his head.

“Nah, mate!” He continued to shout though he was right next to Harry. “Just shots! Games start later!” Okay than, Harry thought to himself, hadn’t realized we’d designated a game time.

“On the count of three!” Zayn shouted to the group surrounding their dining room table, signaling that them to raise the shot glasses to their lips. Harry complied, feeling the slight sting as some of the alcohol slicked a small cut in his bottom lip. “Three, two-” he paused, trying to cause a bit of dramatized air in the room. “ONE!” Everyone knocked their heads back, allowing the sour liquid to burn its way down their throats. It was warming and Harry felt a small grin start to play on his features as he smacked his lips. Say what you will about Zayn, but he sure can make a tasty shot. Suddenly, the crowd in the living room let out a bellow of greetings, causing Harry to turn his attention back to the door. There, standing in the doorway, was Louis with Niall standing just behind him, the Irishman’s eyes alight as he scanned the flat he was about to enter. Louis, on the other hand, looked around the room intently, trying to find the one person he really cared about seeing. Finally, his cerulean eyes caught the jade gaze of Harry’s over the heads of the partygoers that separated them, igniting a blinding smile on his face. Wow, could Harry fall in love with a smile like that. The previous song ended and was replaced quickly by[ANOTHER](http://youtu.be/QQS05ECfbIo).

“There’s gonna be a party tonight,” it started, eliciting a chuckle from Harry. There most certainly was going to be now.

***

Louis had spotted him the moment he’d walked into the door. How could he not? Even from across the room he could see the shine of his green eyes and just how freaking pretty he was in real life. It was all Niall’s fault that he’d missed out on two hours of him. Their eyes had met and he was certain this was the type of moment they talked about in all those romance movies and novels. The one where the heroine— er, hero in this case— locked eyes with the love interest from across a darkened room and everything seemed to slow as they both drunk in the moment, reveling the feel of knowing that this was someone they very well could fall in love with. Not, that he’d given it much thought or anything. In that moment though, he was certain Harry would come over and talk to him, however, he’d been there for an hour and still no sight of the curly haired boy. Sure, he was probably off doing that hosting thing, but he was a guest too, wasn’t he? To make matters worse, Niall had disappeared, saying he’d snag them both a drink and he’d yet to come back. Honestly, his first thought was that the Irish boy had been knocked out and was probably lying somewhere being trampled by the raucous partygoers. Then he remembered that this was Niall, and he probably just got sidetracked by a a challenge to drink someone under the table. He really hoped he wasn’t passed out already. He shifted uneasily on the couch, well aware he probably looked like  _that_ person.

“C’mon, Haz!” He heard a drunken voice holler, which he quickly identified as Zayn’s. (Not because he’d watched so many interviews or anything, mind you. Because he had such a distinctive voice. Obviously.) Louis whipped around to see the Bradford boy towing Harry towards a group of very pretty girls, who were all congregated around the entrance to a hallway that Louis could only assume led towards the different bedrooms of the famous trio. As he watched, the two boys stopped in front of the gaggle of giggling females, who were all dressed rather scantily if he were being honest. The girl with wavey blonde hair leaned forward and threw her arms around Zayn, smiling widely at him before closing the distance between their mouths. Harry smiled his signature charming smile, and wow, could Louis use that drink now. Pushing himself off the couch, he passed through the people, aware that it had suddenly gotten rather hot and rather hard to breathe. Nothing a little vodka won’t help, he thought to himself as he found a table ringed with bodies and supplied heavily with the alcohol of his choice. 

***

All Harry wanted to do was go see Louis. He really didn’t think that was so much to ask. Obviously he was wrong, because for the past hour, no matter how many times he attempted to make his way to the blue eyed boy that stolen his breath from across the room, someone managed to stop him. First, it was Liam asking if he’d seen Louis’ Irish friend. Why Liam would even want to find Louis’ Irish friend was behind him, but he did, and honestly, Harry only knew where Louis was, so if he wasn’t there he definitely didn’t know. Then some guy he was pretty certain he didn’t actually know— though he did know he was high judging by the smell of him— pulled him aside to talk about the wonders of the universe and how he knew how the human race could find the answer to life. Harry humored him for awhile until he started to proclaim that the truth to everything we knew was hidden in Harry’s hair. Then he decided it was time to try to get to Louis again, only just as he was about to make it to his destination, heart racing with finally getting to boy he’d been waiting for for almost three hours now, Zayn grabbed him by the arm and started to drag him in  the opposite direction. He groaned loudly and attempted to pull himself free of the older boy’s grasp, which was surprisingly tight given the state he was in. 

“Zayn let me gooooooo,” he whined, eyes locked on the back of Louis’ head. So close, and yet so, so far.

“C’mon, Haz!” He bellowed not giving in to Harry’s protests as he dragged the boy towards a group of girls. Before he could inform Zayn that he didn’t want to deal with the group of girls that didn’t hold his interest whatsoever, they were standing in front of them. Harry averted his eyes as the blonde threw her arms around his bandmate, finding humor in the fact that he’d been there before. His eyes landed on the girl closest to him, who smiled up at him expectantly and he knew what he had to do to keep up the charade that this lot would know all too well. He felt the smile that had been coined “The Panty Dropper” by Zayn started to curl across his lips. He’d only have to indulge them for a few moments and then he could finally go find Louis.

***

Niall really had only planned on coming back with a drink for Lou, really, he had. And he would have too if he hadn’t have run into Liam on his way back from the kitchen. He had his eyes trained on the mystery concoction he’d made Lou, trying to keep the amount of liquid to fall out of the sides of the cup as minimal as possible when he’d heard the voice near his ear.

“Need help there?” Was all Liam had said, but it caused him to jump and drop the drink, spilling it all over the rather nice tiled floor. 

“Ohmigod,” he said, eyeing the puddle on the ground, half mourning the loss of perfectly good alcohol and the fun drunk Louis it was going to bring and half terrified that he’d just spilled alcohol all over a famous band’s floor. “I am so sorry,” he said quickly, bending down to pick up the fallen cup, just as Liam had, causing the pair to knock heads. 

“Ohmigod, and now I’ve gone and knocked you in the head,” he moaned, clutching his forehead and looking up at the famous boy who just chuckled.

“It was my fault,” he said, “on both accounts.” As they were both squatted on the ground hands hovering above the cup, Niall noticed just how pleasant his eyes were. A nice brown that seemed to go on forever. Wow, they really were pretty, he thought to himself. Wait, what? Shaking his head, he grabbed the cup and shot up, careful not to spill any of his drink. 

“We should probably clean that up, yeah?” He asked, slightly out of breath as Liam looked up at him confusedly from where he still was kneeling on the floor above the puddle of alcohol. “I mean, I put a lot of stuff in there, it’ll probably eat away at your floor if we don’t get it up quick enough.” And with that he turned on his heel, heading back into the kitchen, sure if he searched long enough he’d eventually find paper towels to clean up the mess. Anything to get away from the fact that he’d just gazed into Liam Payne’s eyes and probably looked like a fool. It was Liam’s turn to shake his head as he stood up and followed the Irishman into the kitchen. 

***

“HAIRCUUUUTS!” Louis’ voice cut through the flat, causing both Harry and Niall to pull away from their conversation. Niall knew that voice well. That was Louis’ “I’m Really Gonna Hate Myself In The Morning” voice, which could only mean that he most certainly shouldn’t be participating in Haircuts. Harry, on the other hand, used the cry as his ticket to get away from the group, proclaiming that he’d promised to take part in Haircuts. 

“Uh,” Niall’s eyes flickered towards the dining room area, causing Liam to stop whatever it was he was saying and throw a glance over his shoulder. “I need to check on Lou,” he said apologetically. Liam understood that all too well. He did live with Harry and Zayn after all.

“Of course, yeah,” he tried not to sound too disappointed, “c’mon.” Both boys happened to make it to the dining area just in time to see Louis sitting in a chair, head tipped back as a pretty brunette straddled him, a shot of lemon juice in one hand and a shot of vodka in the other. Oh no, Niall thought to himself as he snuck a glance at Harry. The curler haired boy seemed to have an odd glint in his eye, which Niall wasn’t going to pretend to know was jealousy, but it sure as hell looked a lot like jealousy to him. This wasn’t good, way to forget our ‘We’re Not Gonna Get Shit Faced’ pact, Lou, he thought as he sighed, returning his gaze back to the spectacle. It was all rather odd to watch, he’d have to admit. It was the closest contact Louis had had with a girl in a long while if he remembered correctly. Slowly, she emptied the lemon juice into his friend’s mouth, followed by the vodka before dropping the plastic shot glasses to the ground. Running her hands up his neck and into his hair, she smirked slightly as she started to shake his head, mixing the alcohol into the juice. Almost as quickly as she’d started, she’d stop, dropping a quick kiss on Lou’s mouth to signal that he could swallow. Even he was in slight shock as he watched Louis’ eyes drift open as he smiled up at the girl. If he didn’t know better— which he totally did— he would think Louis had quite enjoyed that. But luckily, Niall knew it was just the alcohol talking. Chancing a glance in Harry’s direction, he was taken aback to see the famous boy’s jaw as it clenched and his eyes blazed on Louis as the girl climbed off of him and he stood up. 

“I think he’ll be fine,” he said to Liam as Harry started to make his way towards his friend. “Let’s, uh, let’s get out of here.” The doe eyed boy nodded, eyes still wide as he watched his bandmate head toward the Twitter boy with a fire in his eyes he hadn’t seen before. 

“Hey,” was all Harry said when he’d made his way to Louis, who looked up at him glossy eyed and smiled a heart stopping smile.

“Hi, Hazza,” he replied slowly, words slightly slurred at the end before clapping his hands to his mouth. Though he didn’t want to admit it, Harry found it utterly adorable. “I mean,” he stopped for a second, “Harry.” With a curt nod, he smiled back up at him. 

“Having a good time, I see,” the younger boy chuckled as he watched Louis attempt to stay focused on him. 

“I am now,” Louis answered seriously, eyes dragging down Harry’s body and then back up, causing him to shudder. Of course, it probably was just because he was tipsy, Harry thought, and he was still thinking about that girl.

“I bet. I would be too. She’s pretty, huh?” Though he’d try to disguise the bitterness in his tone, he could still hear it and he could only hope Louis was too drunk to notice. Unfortunately for Harry, he wasn’t that drunk at all. 

“Yeah, she is,” he replied casually, watching for his response. The younger boy’s eyes hardened slightly. “But she isn’t exactly my type,” he finished, looking Harry dead in the eye. The electric current from the first time they’d met started to manifest around them as they held the gaze. Harry opened his mouth to say something when someone jumped onto his back.

“HARREH!” A loud voice cried, which Louis placed as belonging to that one Radio 1 host. “You’re ignoring all the gorgeous ladies I’ve brought along for us! Come now and be a good host and say hello!” Harry couldn’t help the groan that made it’s way up his throat. It sounded almost as if he were being tortured, though, he guess he sort of was. He just couldn’t catch a break. With pleading eyes, he looked at the slightly drunk boy that he’d worked so hard to get to, hoping he’d say that no, he couldn’t go. Except Louis took it as a plea to let him go.

“Go get ‘em, I’ll be here,” he said a little less enthusiastically, already eyeing the alcohol on the table again. With a sigh of resignation, Harry allowed himself to be led away from Louis. Again.

***

Four more shots and a cup of mystery punch later, Louis found himself on the designated dance floor, body crashing along with bodies of people he didn’t know, but really, at that point, he didn’t quite care. All he had wanted to do was see Harry and stare at his pretty, pretty face and talk to him and be happy because he was his friend. That, and he was really drunk. He could vaguely remember the promise he and Niall had made earlier to not drink too much, but he had needed it. Here he was at a party thrown by one of the most famous bands currently, hoping just to be with Harry and yet every time he found Harry, he was with a bunch of girls, which only solidified how stupid his crush was. Yes. He could admit it now, with all this alcohol rushing through his veins, that he had a huge, massive crush on Harry freaking Styles. It was a cruel world, he thought as he moved along with the crowd. As the previous song— a rather fun song that he would hopefully remember to look up— faded out, [ANOTHER](http://youtu.be/vMRgEFUAsYQ) that his mind recognized instantly faded in. Under normal circumstances, Louis wouldn’t have been effected by the catchy lyrics, at least, not in public. But he was intoxicated, and if there were anything drunk Louis did, it was be effected by catchy songs.

“This is more than a typical kinda thing,” he sang to the girl beside him, who started to laugh at his cheeky smile. “Felt the jones in my bones when you were touching me,” he continued to the girl on his other side. He continued to serenade them until he spotted Harry watching him from outside the crowd of dancing bodies. The music started to pick up as the chorus started to play, which, was really perfect timing. Holding Harry’s hungry gaze, he sang along with the track.

“See I’ve been waiting all day, for you to call me baby,” he winked, knowing he was laying it on thick, but hey. This was the vodka talking anyway. Harry’s eyes darkened, or at least he thought they did as he continued giving him a look that he was hoping was coming off as seductive. “So let’s get up, let’s get on it, don’t you leave me brokenhearted tonight.” Louis watched as Harry started to come toward the crowd, and his heart started to race. He didn’t think he’d actually come over. As he watched, he felt a sharp pain in his foot as someone stepped on it, causing him to break eye contact. 

“Sorry!” A petite girl cried before pushing through the crowd. By the time Louis looked back up, the curly haired boy was gone. A sigh fell from his lips as he realized he’d been wrong about Harry coming over. He’d probably just made things really awkward. Way to go, Lou, he thought to himself. The buzz in his veins faded slightly as the disappointment took its place. Maybe it was time for him to go home. As he was about to push his way out of the crowd, he felt a body behind him and two large hands on his hips. Warmth spread through his cheeks as he felt lips graze the shell of his ear as a deep timbre started to sing the song in his ear.

“Honest, baby, I’ll do anything you want to,” Harry’s breath danced along his ear, causing goosebumps to flicker across his forearms. “So can we finish what we started, don’t you leave me brokenhearted tonight.” Slowly, Louis started to turn to face the taller boy, not exactly sure of what his plan of action was, but knowing that if he didn’t look at his face right now, he’d probably die. Okay, that was an over exaggeration, but really, the vodka wasn’t helping. He stared up at the famous boy, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and feeling a small surge of pride as he watched those endlessly green eyes flicker down to his mouth.

“Hi,” Harry breathed. 

“Hi,” Louis smiled. The air started to fill with that electric buzz again and Louis was certain he was about to lose all ability to breathe. That, or he was about to pass out, which would be very bad timing. But as Harry started to lean forward, he really did find it harder and harder to breathe. The edges of is vision started to blur as Harry paused with his nose touching his own lightly. Louis’ senses were filled with the scent of him that was mixed with the alcohol on his breath. God, he just wanted him to close that last inch. Agonizingly slow, Harry closed the gap between their lips, pressing a tentative amount of pressure to Louis, causing him to gasp at the sensation as it seemed like the world around him exploded. And then everything was black.

***

The first thing that greeted Louis as he started to slowly started to rejoin the land of the living was a pounding headache. In fact, he was certain that someone must be torturing him and trying to squeeze his brains out of his head. That was really the only explanation for the rippling pain that addled his brain. Burying further into the sheets, he pressed himself further into the body beside him, searching for warmth. Wait. What? His brain protested as he tried to remember what happened last night. The last thing he could remember was that life altering kiss with- oh God. He squeezed his eyes together, hoping that it had all been a dream. A bad dream. He really hoped he hadn’t drunk so much that he’d blacked out, especially at Harry’s party. Oh God. Louis considered what the chances were that he’d be able to get away with never opening his eyes and being met with who exactly was in the bed next to him. Though, honestly, he could only assume who it was. There was a low moan from the person beside him, causing him to intake a sharp breath. Okay, like a bandaid, Lou, he thought to himself. Just get it over with. Besides, was it really so bad to wake up next to Harry Styles? Slowly, Louis opened his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the brightness of the room. The all too familiar room. His room. What? Why would they be in his room? Another throaty moan sounded from behind him. Carefully, as to not disturb whoever it was in his bed, he turned over.

“ARGH!” He cried as he pushed himself up and away from his bed, promptly falling out of it. It wasn’t Harry at all. It was Niall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that happened before Brokenhearted is Still Getting Younger by Wynter Gordon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

He was right about this being a bad dream. A terrible, horrible dream. One of those terrible, horrible dreams where you think you’ve waken up only to actually wake up a little while later. There was quite literally no other explanation for why his best friend was the one cuddled up with him and not the gorgeous boy with the green eyes who usually haunted his dreams. (Not that he’d ever admit that, mind you.) Maybe his eyes were just playing tricks on him. Maybe he was still drunk. That’d make sense, right? He was terrified to sit up from the position he’d fallen to the ground in and confirm that Niall was still softly snoring away and probably drooling all over his pillow. No matter how hard he tried to remember the events of the night before, he always hit the same blank wall right after Harry leaned in for that kiss. It had to be one hell of a kiss if it made me black out, Louis thought to himself, refusing to believe that he’d actually had that much to drink. He’d made a pact with Niall, remember? With a steadying breath, he slowly lifted himself from the floor, peaking his curious eyes over the edge of the bed. There was no mistaking the mop of blonde hair that was poking up from the comforter, it was definitely Niall. Almost as if the younger boy could feel the stunned gaze upon him, he shifted slightly, pulling the cover down and fixing a half lidded blue eye on Louis.

“‘Mornin’, princess,” he said. At least, that’s what Louis thinks he said. It honestly sounded more like “mrrrrrrrnprns.” Finally, it hit that he wasn’t going to wake up. 

“Ohmigod Niall what are you doing in my bed?” Louis’ voice shot up a few octaves as he words strung together. The half comatose boy made an odd throaty sound before stretching, allowing the sheets to fall down his body, exposing a bit of his neck that was a mottled purple. A strangled sound choked him as his cerulean eyes grew even bigger.

“NIALL TELL ME THAT LOVE BITE ISN’T FROM ME!” The world seemed to stop spinning. No. No, no, no. This was not happening. As he waited for the answer— which seemed to take hours— he contemplated the best way to put himself out of his misery. Throwing myself off the roof would probably do the trick, he thought.

“Why are you being so loud?” Niall rasped, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“Niall!” Louis squeaked. He literally did not have the time for his friend to slowly awaken. This was a matter of life and death. Niall sighed and eyed his best friend, taking in the state of him. His eyes were so wide, he was certain the older boy’s eyes would fall out. It was actually quite a funny sight. A small giggle threatened to escape his throat. Fighting to keep his serious face, he looked at Louis knowingly. 

“No!” Lou gasped scandalized. It was almost as if Niall had just told him his dog had died. In fact, the poor guy probably would have taken it better. Talk about a hit to his self esteem. 

“Ugh, no, you didn’t now shut it,” He finally said, maybe a little bitterly. Truthfully, if he were a mean person, he’d probably have gone with it a little longer, just to see just what he could get Louis to believe. The only problem with that was his head was a little fuzzy and judging from the look on his roommate’s face, he might actually need counseling if he thought they’d actually slept together. He watched the brunette’s eyebrows knit together confusedly as Niall remembered his original question. “Shouldn’t you be hungover?” That should be a good enough subject change. If Louis stayed true to form, he’d stop caring.

“Why are you in my bed?” The older boy pressed, eyes still drawn to the darkened mark on his throat. It was quite unsettling really. Slowly, he shifted back under the covers and pulled them up to his chin, rolling onto his side so he could return the gaze.

“Well, if you must know, babe, you can’t hold your liquor and someone had to make sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit in your sleep.” It wasn’t a lie. He’d been with Liam— luckily they’d only been chatting at the time— when Harry had come in, cheeks flustered and eyes wild saying that he thought it would be good to get Louis home. Apparently he’d gone and had enough to drink to make him pass out, which was a first, at least as far as Niall knew. With some effort, the slightly inebriated trio had been able to get the dead asleep boy out of the flat and into the car so Liam could drive them home. Sitting up front with him, Niall had watched as Harry absentmindedly stroked the top of Louis’ head, which was lain atop his lap, via the rearview mirror. Liam had mentioned that Harry liked Lou, but he hadn’t thought he’d meant that much. But as he’d watched on— feeling slightly like a creeper— he saw the younger boy smile down at the sleeping boy as he curled inward more, nuzzling closer into his leg and breathing out a word that sounded suspiciously like “Hazza.” After a little more effort, mainly by Harry as he was the one that carried the older boy up the stairs, they’d finally gotten him tucked into bed. If Niall didn’t know any better, he would have thought Harry was going to offer to stay and look after his roommate. In fact, he was certain he had been planning on it until Liam had assured him that Niall could handle it, which, he could, but that wasn’t the point. After the two-thirds of One Direction headed back to their home, he’d stayed up for as long as he could manage, making sure nothing bad happened to his best friend. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been slightly worried. Of course now he just wanted him to stop talking so he could sleep the extra hour before having to head to work. Louis’ moan cut off his thoughts.

“Please tell me I didn’t barf in front of them,” he said lowly, pulling himself back up onto the bed  and under the covers, body lax with relief knowing the true reason as to why his friend was there. 

“Not at all,” Niall mumbled lowly, feeling his eyelids droop again as he snuggled further into the warmth of the bedding. 

“That’s good,” Louis yawned, looking at his phone he saw that he still had an hour before his alarm went off. Now that he knew nothing bad had happened, he could manage sleeping in a little bit longer. A comfortable silence filled the room as they both started to drift back into sleep when he suddenly remembered something. “But Ni, where’s the love bite from?” 

But by then, Niall had already fallen back asleep. Just as he was about to drop off into a deep slumber, he heard the distant buzz of his phone, but at that point it was too late. Harry would just have to wait.

***

Harry had had a hard time sleeping. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was so worried that he’d aided in giving Louis alcohol poisoning or if it was because all he could think about was the way the stars had seemed to align when he’d finally kissed him, but he hadn’t been able to sleep because of it. Really, it was probably a cruel combination of both. 

He’d had a long night before hand, and had become increasingly angry with each obstacle that’d kept him from seeing the Doncaster lad, finally opting to just admire him from afar because some sort of divine intervention would have stepped in as soon as he got too close. He’d thought he’d done a pretty good job of keeping stealthily hidden until the a little more than drunk boy had spotted him and held his gaze and pulled him in with his voice. From where he had stood, it looked as if Louis had only been mouthing the lyrics to the song at him, but as he’d drawn nearer, he could hear that he’d actually been singing, and that he was actually quite good at it. In fact, he probably could have listened to him sing forever, but that sounded just a little bit sappy, even to him. As he’d turned to face him, he could feel a stifling current in the air and he was filled with the need to kiss the older boy. He knew he shouldn’t, and he’d heard the little angel on his shoulder protest, but staring into those bright blue eyes as they looked up at him and seeing the pink brush across his cheeks, Harry couldn’t not want to kiss him. In that moment he could swear that Louis was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and he didn’t care if anyone knew, he just wanted him to know. At the moment, the kiss had seemed like a good idea. As he’d pressed his lips against Louis’ he felt the older boy gasp, causing him to press forward a little harder, enjoying the fact that their lips seemed to meld together perfectly. Of course, that was short lived as the blue eyed boy had stumbled back, breaking the contact and bumping into several people around him. Harry had been able to catch a hold of him before he fell to the ground, and he’d led him to the couch, more worried for this boy he’d only met a few weeks ago than he’d ever been worried before. 

“Lou?” He had asked, patting him slightly on the cheek. To his relief, he’d responded. It wasn’t coherent, and he still wasn’t sure exactly what he’d said, but Harry hadn’t managed to kill him. He could only imagine that headline. “Teen Heartthrob’s Killer Kiss.” After enlisting Zayn to watch Louis, he had set out on the short excursion to find his friend, who had disappeared along with Liam a while back. He was intrigued to asked Liam what exactly they’d been up to before he’d found them. He wasn’t dumb, and he had seen the quite impressive red mark on the blonde’s neck when he’d told them about Louis. Of course, Liam had gone straight to bed after coming back, so he wasn’t able to get his answer. At least, not yet.

Laying in his room, he pressed further into his pillow, rolling onto his side and pulling the comforter up further to his chin. He stared into the darkness, willing himself to fall asleep, but getting nowhere. His mind was racing a thousand miles a minute as it repeated the images of Louis snuggling closer to him in the car and breathing his name in his sleep. His low, sleep filled voice had sent a shiver down his spine and in that moment Harry couldn’t deny it any longer. He wanted so much more from Louis than friendship. He wanted to be able to hear Louis whisper his name in his sleep as he was curled into him, not just in a car as they drove him home. He wanted to be able to kiss him whenever he wanted and most importantly, he wanted to be able to call Louis his. It had taken everything in him to leave the older boy in his apartment and not stay. He honestly didn’t think he’d be able to do it without Liam insisting they leave. 

“Niall can take care of him,” he’d assured. “Besides, we have to be at the studio in the morning, remember?” He sighed as he flipped over and grabbed his phone to see the time. It was still only a little after six, yet he still hadn’t slept. They had to be up soon to get ready to leave, so it was probably a wasted effort to try and fall asleep now. Heaving another sigh he looked at his phone and pulled up Twitter. It’d been awhile since he’d used it, and he missed it really.

> @Louis_Tomlinson I hope you’re still alive #SorryAboutTheInevitbleHangover

He looked over the message before chuckling a little to himself and pressing the send button. After watching the message send, he pulled his headphones from his bedside table and plugged them into his phone before pressing shuffle. Just because he didn’t have much time to sleep didn’t mean he wanted to get out of bed after all. The [SONG](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cRzdwk_W8fo) started off with just guitar, filling his senses as he slowly fell into the song. It had been awhile since he’d listened to it and he’d forgotten just how much he’d enjoyed it. As it picked up and led into the chorus, he realized that the lyrics, at least for that part, were almost exactly what he wanted to say. Quickly, he pulled twitter back up and typed up the words. Hopefully Louis would wake up and see them and understand.

***

There was no way Louis could possibly have felt worse the second time he woke up than the first. Sure, finding Niall cuddle up to him was far less of a shock the second time, but his headache seemed to have doubled in pain. He couldn’t even manage to open his eyes all the way. Blindly, he swiped at his nightstand, trying to find his phone so he could just stop its loud alarm before it made his head explode. After several minutes, his hand finally found the obnoxious device. With eyes half opened, he slid his thumb across the screen, silencing the sound. Through his bleary gaze, he saw two twitter notifications awaiting to be read. Squinting against the light of the phone, he read the first message.

> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson I hope you’re still alive #SorryAboutTheInevitbleHangover

He chuckled sleepily to himself as he read it. Aw, he really does care, he thought to himself. Of course, he should since he was to blame for the killer headache. Tapping the reply button he hurriedly entered an answer.

> @Harry_Styles I’m still alive. #Barely #IfIDoDieYouOweMe

After pressing send, he turned his attention to the other tweet that had been sent to his phone.

> @Harry_Styles: I’m sure and lonely. Another night, another dream wasted on you. Just be here now against me .You know the words, so sing along for me, baby

Louis’ breath caught as he read the words. He knew the song. It was from one of his favorite albums, not that Harry could possibly know that. And he was sure that Harry hadn’t meant anything by tweeting those lyrics, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu as he reread them. The memory of the kiss tugged at his mind. The look in Harry’s eyes as he leaned in flickered in his memory. Or maybe, he thought to himself as he reread the lyrics, they did mean something after all. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

Louis pulled the blanket up closer to his face as he watched TV. Well, not really watched as his head hurt too much for him to even put the effort into focusing onto what exactly it was that was playing. Everything blurred into a swirl of colors and hushed sounds as he silently vowed to never drink again. (Well, maybe not never drink again. Just never drink as much.) He had been laying on the couch for a couple of hours now, after having stumbled his way out of his bed and down the hall. Niall had taken one look at him and shook his head, forcing him to sit down on the couch for fear his friend would lose his balance and brain himself on the coffee table. 

“You’re not going to work today,” he said, sounding more motherly than usual. 

“But Niaaaaaall,” Lou whined, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Well, at least he thought he was looking at him. There were currently two Niall’s standing in front of him, so there was a 50/50 chance it was the right one. (Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t the right one.) “You know I can’t miss or I’ll be fireeeeed.” Not that Louis really cared if he was fired really. He just didn’t want to be home alone and hungover. 

“I’ll tell the boss man you’ve got the flu. He wouldn’t want you vomiting in the store,” Niall replied, ignoring his friend’s pout and pulling his phone from his pocket before heading towards the kitchen. 

“Why’s it matter? I’d be the one cleaning it up anyway!” He yelled after the blonde, causing himself to wince. Note to self, loud noises are out, he thought to himself before heaving a sigh of defeat. He hated being home alone, especially when he was on couch arrest, something he knew Niall would make him swear to do. (Not that he knew from personal experience or anything.) Plopping himself onto his side, he laid there, trying to make the second coffee table disappear from his vision. He jumped slightly when a red Gatorade and bottle of Aspirin were dropped right in his line of sight. 

“Drink up, princess,” the irishman ordered. “You aren’t allowed to move from the couch until you can see straight.” The older boy felt his lower lip jut out, not even bothering to look at Niall.

“But Nialler, I don’t like Gatorade,” he said sadly. If Niall wasn’t certain, he’d have thought he’d just kicked Louis’ puppy. 

“Don’t be a whiny git,” he sighed, reaching over his roommate’s body to grab the blanket draped over the back of the couch. “You wouldn’t have to worry this it if you would have just stuck with the pact.” Unfolding the soft fleece spotted with blue circles, he threw it over the hungover boy, who still lay there pouting at the drink and medicine. He could only imagine what poor Jay had to put up with. Thank God he wasn’t Louis’ mother. 

“Why are you so mean to me?” The brunette asked, making Niall think of a five year old. Actually, a five year old would probably be easier to deal with.

“Being mean would be sitting on you and forcing that aspirin down your throat. You don’t want me to be mean,” he retorted sternly, uncapping the bottle and shaking two pills into his hand, which he sat next to the red liquid. “You better take them, you twat.” Louis very maturely stuck his tongue out before pulling the blanket up over himself to protect himself from the playful swat of his best friend. “Don’t be a bad boy, yeah? I better come back to the house in one piece,” he teased before heading towards the door.

It had been two hours since Niall had left, and the pills still sat on the coffee table, though the Gatorade was long gone, replaced by a glass of water that was sweating and most likely leaving a wet ring. Not that Louis really cared. He was weighing the pros and cons of giving into his friend’s demands and taking the pills. Pros: The headache would subside and his vision would probably even out a little. He’d also probably be able to stomach the idea of some food. Cons: The giant dent in his pride. That was it. He’d suffer through the pain.

A soft buzz cut through his rumination, causing him to drag his bleary eyes to the lit up device just within his grasp on the coffee table. It was probably Niall checking in on him, probably planning on some sort of victory speech if he had taken the aspirin. Well jokes on him, he thought as he stretched his arm out from under the blanket to pluck the phone off the table. 

> How are ya feelin?

A small smile flitted across his features as he saw Harry’s text. It probably should have scared him that he liked the famous boy so much, especially since he knew there was no way he could feel the same— drunk people kiss other drunk people all the time after all— but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. It still made his stomach erupt in butterflies just thinking about the fact that Harry cared enough to worry about how he was feeling. 

> Id be feeling better if niall hadnt made me stay home from work today. Prat. 

He replied and set the phone on the space in front of his nose as he pulled his arm back under the blanket, waiting for the younger boy’s reply. It wasn’t a long wait at all as the screen lit up brightly, temporarily blinding his already sore eyes. 

> Suuuuure. Forced you to stay home from work. Playin hooky is more like it :P

Scoffing, he tapped out his reply with the one finger he managed to poke out from under the blanket. 

> Yes, forced me you git. It isnt fun being home alone :(

Take that, Louis thought, smirking to himself as he hit send. Show you to tease me. The reply was almost instantaneous, causing his smile to grow.

> Youre home alone?

Yes, yes he was and he was considering telling Harry that he was very welcome to come over and have his way with him. (Obviously, all the alcohol wasn’t out of his system yet.) What he really typed up was:

> Yeah, someone had to go earn money to put bacon on the table lol

Wow, he sounded stupid. You’d think he’d figure out how to talk to Harry by now without wanting to die of embarrassment. He was a little disappointed when the phone dimmed, not showing signs of a quick response. Not that Harry  _had_ to reply quickly, he was probably busy. But as time passed and the phone remained dark, he started to mentally curse himself. After checking to make sure the message had actually sent, Louis groaned loudly, flipping onto his back and slinging his arm over his still gummy feeling eyes. He couldn’t blame the famous boy for not responding, he probably wouldn’t either. Who even says “put bacon on the table” anymore anyway? Lame people, that’s who. Lame people who don’t have a chance with perfect famous people. Lame people with throbbing headaches. He started to consider taking the aspirin laid out on the table when a soft knock sounded on the door. It was so soft, in fact, that Louis was pretty certain it had come from whatever was on the TV. Then it sounded a little louder. 

Honestly, he had no idea who it could possibly be. It couldn’t be Niall, he had keys and was working the closing shift tonight and he was pretty sure it wasn’t any of their neighbors. Ever since the Neighbor Party Disaster last year, they all tended to avoid the Tomlinson-Horan flat (Or the Horan-Tomlinson flat if you were Niall, though it sounded a lot weirder). He remained where he was, deciding if they knocked once more, it had to be important enough for him to walk wobbly towards the door and answer it. If they didn’t, well then he could go back to the Great Aspirin Debate. (Man, he needed to have some human interaction.) Moments passed and Louis shook it off, turning his attention back to the little white pills and the bottle that housed them sitting in front of him. Then the knock happened again, this time much louder, making his brain pound. Ow, he winced, pushing up from the couch slowly and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders before shuffling even slower towards the door. This better be worth it, he thought as he grabbed onto the doorframe with one hand and undoing the lock with the other. Throwing the door open, he felt a small squeak escape his lips as his bleary cerulean eyes met the clear green ones of none other than they boy he’d been pining for. 

***

> Yeah, someone had to go earn money to put bacon on the table lol

Harry didn’t like that Louis was home alone. Not because he didn’t think he could take care of himself, but… yeah, okay, maybe he didn’t think he could take care of himself. He had been pretty drunk last night, and if he knew anything, it was that Zayn could cause some major damage with his shots. Shots that he was pretty sure Louis had had a few of. 

“‘Ey Zayn!” He called from where he lay on his bed in his room, scrolling through his Twitter feed and smiling at some of the things being said about him and Louis. Apparently they’d found out about the party and that he’d been in attendance. It honestly never ceased to amaze him all that their fans could figure out when they really tried. (It was actually quite scary. They could probably give the FBI a run for their money.)

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Zayn’s voice lilted through the hall towards him, reaching Harry’s room before he did. Tapping his fingers on the screen of his phone, he looked up at the boy leaning in his doorway, shirt off and sweats hung low. He noted a darkening bruise on his collarbone, causing him to shake his head. Guess he could figure out what Zayn had gotten up to last night.

“Blondie?” He asked curiously, nodding his head towards the mark. Raising an eyebrow, the older boy looked down curiously before laughing loudly.

“Yeah mate, she’s pretty cool though,” he replied, smiling brightly at Harry. “I quite like her, actually.” Had this been a year ago, he probably would have been hit with every jealous feeling ever. Now, he just returned the smile.

“Aw, is little Zayn growing soft on us?” He cooed, making his eyes wide. 

“Oh shut it, you,” Zayn retorted, lacking any real malice. “What did you want? I’m sure it wasn’t to check me out.” He dropped a lazy wink at him, causing the curly haired boy to roll his eyes. 

“Funny. No, are we doing anything today?” He glanced down at the message still pulled up on his screen.

“I don’t think so,” the dark haired boy replied after a moment of thought. “In fact, I’m pretty sure we don’t. Li went out, something about needing to grab a book or something, and I think he’d be here kicking our asses into gear if we did have something.” 

“Good,” Harry’s smile brightened as he pushed himself up off the bed, closing his laptop in the process. 

“Why?” His bandmate asked, training his dark eyes on the younger boy as he grabbed some jeans off the back of his desk chair and headed towards his dresser for a shirt. 

“Oh, just wanna go out for a bit is all,” he said offhandedly, grabbing a white v neck from the top drawer before closing it again. A little smirk tugged up on the corner of Zayn’s lips as he watched Harry tug off his hoodie and replace it with the shirt.

“Gonna visit Louis, huh,” he said, making it sound more like a statement rather than a question. The moment of hesitation was all he needed before letting a bark of laughter resonate from his throat. 

“Am I really that transparent?” Harry asked, tugging his pajama bottoms off and pulling his dark jeans up to replace them. 

“Babe, glass is more opaque than you,”  he replied. “But it’s cute. Really, Haz.” Quickly, the taller boy grabbed the pillow from his bed and threw it at Zayn, hitting him squarely in the chest.

“It isn’t cute, you prick. I’m supposed to be alluring. Not cute,” he said, holding his arms out and doing a quick little turn. “Good?” Rubbing his chest and feigning pain, Zayn eyed him bitterly, taking in his outfit.

“Of course it is, as usual. Now, go get him, tiger,” he purred, turning on his heel and running back to his room before Harry could find something else to throw at him. 

***

He’d opted to walk to Louis’ flat, looking forward to some air to clear his head. And besides, it wasn’t  _that_  far. The biting air entered his lungs, cutting through the thoughts of the boy that had been on his mind since the first tweet. He had honestly never felt this way about anyone, and that thought scared him, especially since he wasn’t exactly allowed to let anyone know, least of all Louis. Luckily, everyone at the party— minus Liam and Zayn— wrote the kiss off as a drunken thing that would probably never happen otherwise, though if he were being truthful, Harry would give anything for their first kiss to have been one that didn’t involve alcohol. He wanted it to be real. At least then he’d know if Louis truly returned his feelings. He’d talked to his mom about the situation, and she’d chuckled before informing him that it sounded a lot like Louis might think Harry hung the stars in the sky. But she was his mom, she had to think that. And besides, it didn’t even matter if he liked him back, because it wasn’t allowed. He rolled his eyes as he imagined what Simon would tell him if he knew about the kiss and if he knew that he was going to go visit Louis now. It was actually a rather funny thought, and he chuckled to himself as he turned the corner onto Louis’ street. Fuck ‘em, he thought to himself as he reached the door of the building, pushing it open and missing the girl that stood across the street and snapping a picture. Climbing up the stairs that he’d just walked up about 12 hours previously, he thought about how warm Louis had been pressed against his chest as he’d carried him up the stairs. He’d looked so peaceful, curled up with his face snuggled into him and Harry would have given anything to be able to make that a constant in his life. Looking up, he found himself in front of Louis’ door. With a small intake of breath, he knocked.

***

“So, you’ve been trying to decide if your pride is worth the skull splitting headache?” Harry asked, shooting Louis a look like he might be insane over his shoulder as he stood at the stove. He’d been there for about an hour when Louis brought up that he hadn’t eaten all day, which was a ridiculous notion to Harry. Everyone knew the instant cure for a hangover was some greasy food. The idea had made the blue eyed boy crinkle his nose and turn a little green, but he eventually gave into Harry’s demands to let him cook him something. Now, as he finished the bacon, Louis sat on the counter, swinging his legs like a kid watching their mom make dinner. 

“You obviously don’t understand the pain and suffering Niall would make me go through if he knew I actually gave in to him,” Louis replied, gaze locked onto the plate of eggs and now bacon. Maybe Harry was onto something with this food thing, he was already feeling a little better just smelling it. “I’d end up with the skull splitting headache anyway, so why not just skip the middle man?” He watched as the famous boy, who acted anything but, picked up the plate and offered his hand to help Louis hop off the counter, causing his heart to flutter slightly in his chest. 

“Well, then you’re obviously better about headaches than I am, Lou, because I would have downed way more than just two aspirin by now,” he chuckled and he continued to hold the older boy’s hand and lead him back to the couch. Louis stared down at their hands, unsure if Harry realized that he was still holding onto him, but he wasn’t about to say anything. A warm sensation spread in his belly as he captured the moment in his mind, loving the way his tanned skin contrasted with Harry’s pale skin. 

“Oh really?” He replied distractedly.

“Yeah, mate, headaches are the worst,” the taller boy chuckled as he reached the couch, releasing  his hold on Louis’ hand and waiting for the hungover boy to sit down.When he did, missing the warmth of the hand around his, Harry put the plate of food on his lap. “Bon appetit!” He exclaimed in a horrible rendition of a french accent. Though the idea of eating had made his stomach churn earlier, he stomach now growled hungrily as he dug in, eyes rolling back in his head a little from how good it tasted.

“Harry, oh my god, you sing and cook, how are you real?” He said before he could stop himself. His cheeks burned scarlet as he realized he’d spoken his thoughts out loud and quickly shoveled another forkful of eggs into his mouth to stop him from saying anything else. Harry laughed loudly thought before replying.

“It’s just eggs and bacon, nothing big,” he said modestly. 

“Maybe not to you, but when you manage to char toast every time you make it, it’s pretty big,” Louis said, eyes trained on the plate of quickly disappearing food. A small smile etched itself on his face as he heard the younger boy laugh again.

“Well I’ll just have to cook for you more often to make sure you don’t starve to death,” he replied lightly, causing Louis’ heart to squeeze again. Seriously, what was that?

“I’d like that,” Lou said lowly, smiling up at Harry through his lashes. A comfortable silence fell over the room as finished off the food. Harry studied the older boy when he thought he wasn’t looking, taking in every detail of his face, noting that he couldn’t find anything wrong with him. From his feathered hair to his bright blue eyes to his perfectly pointed nose and down to his pinks lips, Louis was quite literally the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, even after having spent the majority of the day laying on the couch with the hangover from hell. 

“So, you were right, Hazza,” his slightly raspy voice brought him out of his reverie, causing his heart to speed up at the use of his nickname. “I do feel better now, thank you.” 

“No problem, Lou. I figured I owed you one since you’re like this because of me,” Harry laughed. 

“That’s true. This is all your fault,” Louis said playfully. “You should sell your hangover secrets though. You know, in case this whole popstar thing falls through.”

“It’s hardly a secret, babe,” he rolled his eyes, missing the way Louis’ breath hitched at the term of endearment. “I think everyone but you knows that grease is the only way to kick a hangover in the ass. And besides, if this popstar thing falls through, I’ll just go back to uni.” He ended with a shrug, looking over at the boy who was much to far from him for his liking. 

“Oh uni,” Louis sighed, putting the plate on the table in front of them and pulling a blanket out from beside him and curling up under it. 

“You went, right?” Harry remembered Louis mentioning school before, if only briefly. 

“Yeah, dropped out though. I felt like I was wasting my time and money when all I wanted to be  was a singer, but that isn’t happening. Now I’m just a uni dropout who works at a bookstore,” he replied, sounding distant. It wasn’t one of his favorite topics to talk about, especially with someone who seemed to have everything he could ever want. Harry noted the change in Louis’ demeanor, and grew quiet, not wanting to say anything wrong. Both boys turned their attention toward the movie that was playing on the TV, neither really watching it. Slowly, Louis’ eyes started to droop and he started to lean towards Harry, until he rested comfortably against his side. The weight of the other boy pressed into his side caused his heart to skip a beat.

“‘S this okay?” He asked sleepily, falling victim to a food coma. If only Harry could tell him how okay it was.

“Yeah, Lou, it’s okay,” he smiled. They both grew quiet again, both thinking about the other and all the things they wished they could say.

“Did you ever consider running a record label?” Harry asked suddenly, looking down at the older boy tucked into his side. The older boy’s crystalline eyes looked up at him confusedly, not exactly sure where the topic had come from. “You have a penchant for finding amazing new talent, ya know,” he explained with a shrug. “I think you’d be really good at it, is all.” Honestly, Louis had never thought about it before. 

“It’d be cool,” he said after thinking about what it’d be like to run a label. “I’d never given it much thought, you know?” He placed his head back down, resting it on Harry’s chest as he snuggled into him, enjoying the warmth. 

“Well you should,” Harry said, voice breathy as he realized just how close he was to the boy that haunted his thoughts. 

“Will do, Haz,” he replied, voice heavy as Harry’s even breaths started to lull him further into his food coma. In that moment, with Louis’ head resting on his chest, he wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth.

“You know, I’m not how they say I am,” Harry remarked out of nowhere. 

“Hm?” He responded, not exactly following as his eyes drifted shut. “Who’s they?”

“The media,” the younger boy answered, resisting the strong urge to card his fingers through the sleepy boy’s hair. “I’m not like that. That isn’t me.” He watched as the Louis’ lips pulled up in the corners. 

“That’s good to know,” he breathed. After a few minutes of silence, Harry glanced down that the boy he thought was asleep on his chest. I could fall in love with him, he thought to himself. As he looked down at him, he started to sing a [SONG](http://youtu.be/1ecYVr5fv3o) under his breath. It was one of his favorites and it almost fit the moment too perfectly.

“Cause I’ve been trying way too long to try and be the perfect song when our hearts are heavy burdens we shouldn’t have to bear alone,” Louis heard the boy sing lowly, the words vibrating through his chest. He knew the song, it was one of his favorite love songs and hearing Harry sing it was like a dream come true. “So goodnight moon and goodnight you when you’re all that I think about all that I dream about,” the younger boy continued as he started to brush some of Louis’ fringe away from his face. The older boy snuggled closer into him enjoying the touch and the voice that was pushing him further into darkness.

_Do you feel us falling? Cause I can feel us falling_ , echoed in his ears as he drifted off to sleep. 

***

Though Niall hated having to close the store because it meant getting home extra late— and really he just wanted to sleep after last night— it wasn’t so bad since Liam had decided to stop by. Actually, it made up for the fact that he’d had to work without his best friend all day. He smiled to himself as he pictured the brunette leaning against the counter as they chatted. Yeah, he definitely made up for it. Pulling his keys from his pocket, he unlocked the door, trying to be quiet just in case Louis was asleep, which hopefully he was. He hadn’t looked his best this morning and knowing Lou, he hadn’t taken the medicine, so sleeping it off would be his best bet.  Kicking off his shoes at the door, he tiptoed into the living room looking for his roommate. As his eyes focused on the curly haired figure on the couch, he felt them grow wide. Harry was asleep on their couch, leaning against the corner of the couch with his head tilted back and Louis was curled into his side with his head resting on the singer’s chest. Harry’s hand rested in Louis’ hair, almost as if he’d fallen asleep as he carded his fingers through it. Honestly, it was so cute, Niall thought he might vomit. He smiled as he tiptoed towards the hall that led to his room, turning the light off as he went. He pulled his phone from his back pocket, pulling up Liam’s number and sending him a text.

> Harry fell asleep here with Lou. Don’t wait up.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It needs to be said again, this is my favorite chapter

All of Harry’s limbs were stiff. The kind of stiff that only comes with sleeping in an uncomfortable position, which, didn’t really make much sense to his still near comatose mind as he started to surface from the otherwise perfect sleep he’d just had. As life started to breathe itself into his limbs, his sleep addled mind slowly began to register what ha started to wake him and what was the causing the warm weight that was resting comfortably on his chest. With a sigh, he let his jade eyes open, taking in the living room that wasn’t his. Looking down, a small smile flitted across his features as he took in the state of the older boy who slept soundly against him. Louis was curled into a ball, propped up only by Harry as he nuzzled closer into his body, hand lightly clutching the front of his shirt. A sigh of contentment escaped the sleeping boys lips as Harry watched him fondly. Waking up to Louis was worth the dull ache in his neck and the stiffness in his back if he were being quite honest. Three sharp beeps pulled his attention away from the boy who had unknowingly stolen his heart and to the phone in his pocket, reminding him of why he’d awakened in the first place. Eyeing the lit device that sat just out of his reach on the coffee table, he considered just leaving it and going back to sleep. Though he knew he was in for one hell of a backache, he hadn’t slept that well in months, maybe even years. Not, that he was saying it was because of Louis, it was a rather comfy couch. Who am I kidding, he reprimanded himself as his gaze flickered back towards the gorgeous boy who shifted in his sleep slightly, letting out a soft mewl. If he had it his way, he would just lay there forever, or less dramatically, until Louis and Niall kicked him out of their flat for squatting. Without thinking, he started to brush his fingers through Louis’ hair as he had been doing before falling asleep the night before. The older boy shifted again, this time into his touch as he gripped tighter to his shirt, causing him to chuckle under his breath. Maybe he was creepy, but he quite enjoyed sleeping Louis. It felt like he belonged there, tucked into his side. (Wow, was he a sap.) As the heat from the boy pressed to his chest started to seep into his bones again, causing his eyelids to droop, his phone sounded again. With a sigh, he untangled his fingers from Louis’ hair and slowly worked his way out from under him before setting his head gently down on the couch where Harry had been sitting. Almost as soon as he’d been rearranged, Lou yawned and stretched before turning over and snuggling further down into the blanket. The blanket that funnily enough, Harry had as well, only with pink circles. Ignoring the several texts on his screen, he pulled up his camera and took a quick snap of him as a low snore echoed through the room. Quickly tapping the Twitter icon, he attached the photo to a tweet before typing up a message. With a wicked smile, he hit the tweet button, sending the picture of the sleeping boy out to his millions of followers. Just as he went to show himself out, he took once last fleeting look at Louis, wanting nothing more than to stay snuggled up on that couch with him, but that many texts normally meant something important. He leaned down and brushed his lips across Louis’ temple before pulling back and walking towards the door. Easing the door open, he snuck over the threshold before gently closing it, and heading towards the exit of the building, leaving his heart behind him. 

***  


“So how was you’re night?” Zayn asked, waggling his eyebrows at Harry as he climbed into the van after what was the quickest shower he’d ever taken. He’d forgotten about the interview they had had scheduled for the day with Greg James, much to Liam’s chagrin, which was who all the texts had seemed to come from. Though, how Liam had known Harry was with Louis was beyond him. He was going to ask him about it eventually, he couldn’t believe he was  _that_  transparent. 

“It was fine, thanks,” he replied, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t miss the look Liam gave him, nor did he miss the scoff from the raven haired boy.

“I bet it was,” he chuckled before Liam swatted him in the back of the head. “OI! LI!” He cried, brushing his hand away. “Watch it! I’m just kidding.”

“Mmhm,” Liam said incredulously. “Anyway, since we’ve gotten off to a late start, we’ll be cutting it a little close, but we should still make it on time,” he said authoritatively, looking over a schedule he had pulled up on his phone. 

“I wasn’t that late,” Harry mumbled, running a hand through his still damp curls. It was a good thing it was a radio interview. At least he didn’t have to worry about looking his best. 

“Harry, I think two hours constitutes as  _that_ late,” the older brunette said, eyeing him over the screen of his phone. 

“It hardly counts, you always make sure we have plenty of time for moments like this,” he shrugged, mind flickering back to the boy on the couch. “I probably could have slept a little bit longer.”

“Yeah, sleep.” Zayn let the innuendo creep into his voice, dodging Liam this time. Sticking his tongue out, Harry slouched in the seat and crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring his two bandmates as they started to slap at each other. After Liam gave up with the slaps and locked Zayn in a headlock, ruffling his hair with a pretty impressive noogie, the space grew quiet as they all retreated into their own separate thoughts. 

In fact, they didn’t continue conversation until 30 minutes later when they’d been seated in the radio studio with hot cups of tea and the one and only Greg James.

“Hello, hello, dear listeners!” The radio host announced into his mic after greeting them all. “You wouldn’t believe who I found in our studio this morning! Can you guess?” He asked, pausing for effect before continuing on. “That’s right! The one, the only, OOOOOONE DIRECTION!” It was quite a good impression of the X Factor voice, if Harry was being honest, and it did make him laugh, even if he didn’t feel much in the mood for laughing. 

“Hello!” Liam said cheerfully.

“Vas happenin’?” Zayn chuckled into his mic.

“‘Ey, everybody,” Harry smiled, though he knew that the listeners would have no way of seeing him. 

“Quite nice lads, I must say,” Greg came back in, taking control of the interview. “Can I start off by saying that you are probably the most requested band I get,” he laughed genuinely, which was nice. Most of the time interviewers seemed to try to hard, but not Greg. He always seemed like a cool guy, Harry was sure he could be quite good friends with him, and wondered why they weren’t. It wasn’t like he didn’t already show up to their parties.  “It gets to the point that I have to ban votes for you lads because if I didn’t, it would just be your singles on a loop.” Harry eased back into his chair a little, letting Liam take the reins, as he normally did.

“What can we say, our fans are the best,” Li chuckled. Zayn nodded in agreement before remembering that he couldn’t be seen.

“Yeah, they are,” he affirmed. As the radio host and his bandmate continued to chat, Harry allowed his mind to wander to the phone that sat in his pocket. Wonder if I can get away with texting Lou right now, he thought to himself. Wonder if he’s even up. He probably wasn’t. His mind roamed back to the first tweet he’d received from him and couldn’t help but think about how things would have been if it had just been lost amongst the thousands of @ mentions he received every minute. He most certainly wouldn’t have such a horrendous crick in his neck, that’s for sure. 

“Now, I’ve got to ask, Harry, what exactly is this ‘Larry Stylinson’ business?” The mention of his name pulled him from his reverie. 

“Hm?” He hummed, unsure of if he’d heard correctly. 

“Well, I was going through some twitter feeds and I keep seeing mention of this ‘Larry Stylinson,’” Greg replied, looking at him earnestly as he waited for a reply. He noted as Liam started to chew on his bottom lip. 

“Oh,” he forced a laugh, “I’ve got this friend, and I guess the fans just mixed our names together. It’s quite funny, yeah?” It was a terrible explanation, and about as vague as he could be. He really hoped Greg wouldn’t keep pressing the issue.

“So, like a couple’s name?” Or he would keep talking about it. Whatever.

“Kind of, I guess,” Harry replied offhandedly, eyes flickering to the other boys who watched him intently. “He was at our party the other day, and had a nasty hangover, so I went to help him out like a good friend.” He tried to emphasize the word, but it just made it sound like more of a lie. 

“So that’s the mystery flat you were photoed entering!” Greg said triumphantly, causing Harry’s eyebrows to pull together in confusion, which the host saw. “There was a fan who saw you going into a mystery flat yesterday and they were wondering who’s it was. You heard it here, Mr. Styles was being the Hangover Doctor. What a good lad,” he laughed. Harry laughed along to disguise his discomfort. He really didn’t want to talk about it. He was certain that Simon would not be pleased with this, and he didn’t want him to do anything drastic. Seeming pleased with Harry’s answer, Greg moved on, asking about what they’ve been working on in the studio, but by then he was already lost in his own thoughts again.

***

When Louis had waken up, he was only slightly disoriented. He wasn’t exactly sure why he wasn’t tucked in his bed with a pillow under his head. He had been certain he’d fallen asleep in a much comfier position. It was as he tried desperately to gather his bearings, he remembered Harry showing up and cooking for him before singing him to sleep. He felt his cheeks begin to burn as the singer’s voice floated through his mind.

_Do you feel us falling? ‘Cause I can feel us falling_.

He did actually. Feel himself falling, that is. But that couldn’t really be classified as something shocking. In fact, he was probably the last person to realize just how head over heels for the popstar he was. But up until last night, he didn’t think there could have been any possible way that he’d reciprocate those feelings. 

_You know, I’m not how they say I am,_ he’d said.  _I’m not like that. That isn’t me._

His heart had stopped when he’d caught on to what the curly haired boy had been insinuating. As he’d laid there, resting against him, he tried his best to not make a big deal about it, though it was a pretty damn big deal to him. Harry freaking Styles insinuated that he may not be as into all his female suitors as it may seem. At least, that’s what Louis thought he meant. It was the fact that he was unsure that had forced him to pretend to fall asleep after the boy’s confession. He was sure that when he woke up, he’d be there and maybe then it would all work out. Of course, when he had finely awakened he found his head on an ever cooling patch of couch. Letting out a low, sad sigh, he tried not to think much of it as he reached for his phone propped up on the opposite arm rest of the couch. A tweet flashed across the screen.

> @Harry_Styles: Try to help a boy recover from a hangover and he falls asleep on me. #HopeIWasAGoodPillow #SorryIHadToLeave

Attached to it was a picture of him curled into the couch, peacefully asleep. He felt his stomach flip as he looked at the picture, imagining Harry standing over him. In all honesty, he probably should have been embarrassed that a picture of him sleeping had been tweeted out to millions of people— and from the looks of it, retweeted by thousands— but all he could think about were the butterflies in his stomach as he read over the tweet again. He hadn’t wanted to leave. He  _had_  to leave. He felt his heart swell.

> @Harry_Styles You made an excellent pillow :)

As he sent it off, he smiled to himself.

_You know, I’m not how they say I am._   _I’m not like that. That isn’t me._

_***_

The music of the club was so loud, that even the air outside was thumping. It was literally the last place Harry wanted to be, especially since the person inside waiting for him wasn’t who he’d wanted to see at all. 

After the interview with Greg had ended, Harry’s phone had gone off almost immediately afterwards. Of course it was Simon. How could he expect anything less? As he’d figured, he hadn’t been very happy about the mention of him and Louis, and he seemed pretty adamant about rectifying the situation.

“Tonight you’re going to go out,” he’d said almost cryptically. Harry heard the sounds of Simon rustling through papers in the background.

“Actually, I was thinking of having a quiet night in, thanks,” he retorted, knowing that he didn’t have any say in the matter anyway.

“Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated right now, Harry. I told you to stop talking to this boy,” he bit out, close to completely losing his temper. 

“Louis,” he corrected. You’d think he’d know that by now. “And it isn’t even a big deal, so I went to his flat to help him out.” Even to his ears he didn’t sound convincing. He’d have to work on that. 

“It’s a big deal when people are already questioning your sexuality. It doesn’t help when you tweet pictures of your ‘friends,’” Harry could practically hear the air quotes in his voice, “sleeping and saying they’d fallen asleep on you.” 

“People use their friends as pillows all the time. Are you gonna question Liam and Zayn now too, because just the other day they fell asleep on each other,” he scoffed, growing angrier the more he dwelled on it. He should be allowed to like who he wanted to like. Who cared if others didn’t like it, it wasn’t any of their business and didn’t effect them anyway. 

“People aren’t questioning if they’re gay or not, now are they?” Simon said, voice dangerously low. Harry opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off. “This isn’t up for discussion. I’ll text you the club and time.” And then the line had gone dead. 

It wasn’t like Harry hadn’t been expecting this sort of reaction, really. But it still sucked. Pushing his way to the bar, he took a seat at it, unsure of who exactly he was supposed to be meeting, but knowing he was going to need a little more than a couple of drinks to make it through the night. By the time he’d started to work his way through his second vodka and cherry coke when he felt a dainty tap on his shoulder. Turning around in his seat, he was greeted by his date for the night. 

Her name was Adelaide, he’d learned over another drink, and if Harry was being completely honest he’d have to admit she was a gorgeous girl. She had to have been a model, that’s normally the type of girl management set him up on dates with, and if she wasn’t, she was tall and slender like one. Her little black dress didn’t leave much to the imagination as it road high on her long, tan legs and left her shoulder bare, aside from the waves of chestnut hair that tumbled about them. Her eyes were an odd shade of blue and gray, matching the color of a storm cloud before the rain started to pour.  If things were different, he wouldn’t have had any problems falling for her. But all he could think about as he took her in was that with the lights of the nightclub flickering off her hair, it was the same color as the Doncaster boy he’d waken up with. 

“Let’s dance!” She yelled over the music, not waiting for a reply as she grabbed his hand and dragged him onto the floor. As they made their way through the crowd, the music changed from heavy techno beats to [HARD HITTING GUITARS](http://youtu.be/YeKlG1Zsbp8) that shredded through the smoky air of the room. By the time they reached a spot she deemed worthy, the gritty beat had gotten under his skin, mixing with the alcohol he’d already consumed and making his blood tingle. As she pressed into him, grinding her hips into his, he couldn’t help but find his mind wandering. If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe that the shorter frame in front of him was masculine. If he kept them closed, he could almost believe that the waist he wrapped his arms around was longer and flat. If he kept them closed, he could almost believe that the sharp tang of flowery perfume was musky, warm inviting cologne. And if he kept them closed, he could almost believe that jaw he nuzzled his nose into was lined with stubble. To anyone else in the club, it would look like the boy was completely lost in his partner, eyes closed as he pressed closer to her. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to push the older boy who was probably sitting at home up against a wall and smother his lips with his own and leave a trail of of bruises down his neck and collarbones to mark him as his. With a shaky breath, he opened his eyes, pupils wide with lust as he let the current situation fall back into place. 

“You’re much more of a convincing actor than anyone gives you credit for,” Adelaide whispered into his ear, tangling her fingers into his curls. All Harry could manage was a low moan as he imagined Louis’ hands in his hair, massaging the same area she currently was. His hands shot up and circled her wrists, pulling her hands away from his body. 

“I need some air,” he said lowly, voice husky. She looked up at him concerned that she may have overstepped some boundary that she hadn’t been told about, but let him go without a word— after all she wasn’t getting paid to actually look after him, just to make the public think she was. As he made his way back through the crowd towards the backdoor, his blood seemed to roil more as he thought about the boy from Twitter. His breathing became thick as images of what he wanted to do to him flickered through his mind. The cold London air cut through his thoughts as he burst through the door. Taking deep, sobering breaths, he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his twitter app. Maybe it was the alcohol  that made him not care who saw the lyrics he sent out, or maybe it was the fact that he needed Lou, and he needed him now. Truthfully, it was probably the dangerous mixture of both. 

*** 

It had been a long and boring day. After waking up and seeing the tweet from Harry, he honestly had nothing to look forward to except work, which was more painful and dull than usual. (Which Louis didn’t even think was possible.) Niall had teased him mercilessly throughout the day, making the most annoying kissy faces at him whenever he passed by, which was often. He found himself checking his phone for any response from the green eyed boy, but it was all in vein as his phone stayed stubbornly dim. Obviously, he was busy. Right? 

Finally, after what seemed like the most anticlimactic and boring day of his young life, Louis was laying in bed, attempting to sleep though it seemed to be much harder to do when all he could think about was falling asleep snuggled up to Harry. Sure, his bed was way more comfortable than the couch, and his comforter was much warmer than the blanket that stayed in the living room, but he would much rather be out there than in here if it meant that the curly haired boy had him in his arms. He had been laying there for what seemed like hours when he had finally entered that awkward half state between awake and asleep where at any moment he could drop off into blissful darkness when his phone pinged and lit up the room. A string of curses hissed from his mouth as he rolled over to grab the cursed thing that couldn’t go off when he wanted it to. He was half considering throwing it across the room when he caught sight of the message that had pulled him back to full consciousness.

> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson I go crazy ‘cause here isn’t where I wanna be, and satisfaction feels like a distant memory.

He knew the song. He knew the song well actually and he heard it in his head as his stomach twisted at the words. In his own, humble opinion, it was one of the sexiest songs on his iPod and he felt a little more than smug at the fact that Harry had chosen to send him lyrics from it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been half asleep just a moment ago, or maybe it was the fact that he suddenly needed Harry, and he needed him now. In fact, the sheer force of yearning that hit the older boy in that moment almost took his breath away. Louis hit the reply button and typed in the continuing lyrics, smiling a little to himself as he sent them. Then he put the phone on silent and tossed it to his desk on the other end of the room.

***

Harry was back inside, sitting at a booth with Adelaide tucked into his side, laughing at something the people that surrounded them had said. He had attempted to be a part of the conversation, really, he had. But he couldn’t keep himself from thinking of the device in his pocket that grew heavier as the minutes passed without a response. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, focusing on breathing and giving up any facade of giving a damn about the model and the people she’d befriended in the booth. The phone buzzed in his pocket, causing his eyes to shoot open as he say upright, eliciting a startled squeak out of the woman as she was abruptly jostled. 

“Harry?” She said, watching him questioningly. She was starting to wonder if the money was worth dealing with this boy who may or may not be crazy. He ignored her as he thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out the phone, cradling it in his hands as if it were something valuable. Putting in his password, he watched as the message popped up onto the screen. No one in the booth paid him any mind, save for Adelaide, as a crooked smile stretched across his face as he read it.

> @Louis_Tomlinson: @Harry_Styles And I can’t help myself, all I wanna hear you say is “Are you mine? “

***

Though he’d tossed the phone to keep it from keeping him awake, Louis soon found himself getting out of bed and grabbing it, bringing it back to his bed with him as he watched it carefully. While he waited, expecting a reply at any moment, he started to scroll through the feed of the mobile app. When he’d reached the tweets he’d already seen, and still hadn’t received a response, he found himself clicking the @ mentions tab. Ever since he’d checked them that one time Harry had asked, he hadn’t again, as most of them never were actually meant for him. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and there was no way he was going to miss Harry’s tweet back at him by falling asleep now.

> OMG! @gregjames CONFIRMED THAT @Harry_Styles WAS VISITING @Louis_Tomlinson!! #LarryIsReal

He read, clicking on the picture linked to it curiously. There was Harry, looking adorable as he pushed the door to his building open to come up to see him. Though, he didn’t understand where the radio host played into it all. He’d have to research that in the morning. Or just ask Harry, if he ever responded. Going back to his @ mentions, his eyes locked on the first tweet that had popped up at the top. He felt his heart stop as he read the words.

> @Liliana1D: No @Harry_Styles! Go home to @Louis_Tomlinson! #StepAwayFromTheModel

Louis’ mouth went dry as he debated opening the picture attached. After much deliberation, and maybe just a little bit of masochism, he clicked the link. Everything seemed to stop as he took in the picture. Cold started to run through his veins and a vast hole seemed to open itself up in the space he was certain his heart was supposed to be. 

_I’m not like that. That isn’t me_ , he’d said. Louis stared at the picture of the singer who had his face pressed into the gorgeous woman’s neck with his eyes half lidded with lust. It sure as hell looked like he was like that. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

Niall woke to the sound of Adele wailing about lost love, which was odd given the fact he had been certain neither him nor Louis were particularly big fans of the singer. She was great, sure, but how could anyone listen to so much heartache before it gave them secondhand sadness and they found themselves curled up on the couch with a package of Oreos and tub of peanut butter. (Not that he was speaking from personal experience or anything.) Anyway, Lou knew Lady Heartbreak was banned from the flat, so Niall came to the only possible conclusion. There were obviously intruders in their home. Intruders who planned on stealing things AND making them sad. Not cool. He glanced at his clock on the side table and groaned. Why couldn’t people break in at a normal hour and not two in the morning, he thought bitterly. Slowly, he rolled out of bed, considering throwing on pants and a shirt, though really, the burglars should have considered the fact they’d probably run into an angry Irishman in his boxers if they broke into this home. Instead, he grabbed the first thing he saw that would do damage to the intruder. Sure, it was a lamp, but one has to improvise in this sort of situation. As he stepped cautiously through his room, he eased the door open, peering his head out to look down the hall. The room was still dark though the flickering lights indicated that the TV was on. At least that meant they weren’t planning on taking that. As Niall tiptoed closer, his heart started to race. He wasn’t exactly a big guy. Maybe I should just go back to bed, he thought to himself, if I can’t see it, it can’t see me and all that, he thought to himself as he chewed on his lip in deliberation. He stood just around the corner now, Adele’s voice ringing loudly in his ears at near painful levels. After a steadying breath and a mini self given pep talk— much like the one in 300 only minus all the dead Spartans— he jumped into the room.

“Don’t move!” He yelled, raising up the lamp to protect himself. The terrified squeak that it caused was not what he had expected to hear in response. That’s when his blue eyes settled on the scene in the living room. Louis was curled up on the couch around a tub of ice cream. Not a pint, but a full tub. His eyes were red rimmed and wide as they stared at Niall, spoon hanging out of his mouth. The TV was playing The Notebook, which was muted with the captions on as Adele crooned that she’d find “someone like you.” Honestly, Niall kind of wished it had been an intruder, because this was just sad.

“Babe, this may sound insensitive, but you seriously look like the biggest cliche right now,” he said half jokingly. Lou made a small, choking sound as he broke into fresh sobs. “No no no. Hey, hey. Lou. It’s okay!” Niall felt awkward. He’d known Louis for almost half his life, and only ever seen him cry like this twice. Once when he’d thought he’d lost his sister, Fizzy, at the mall and again during Marley & Me. He set the lamp on the coffee table and sat by his distraught friend, pulling him up and wrapping his arms around him. “What’s wrong?”

The older boy sniffled, making a loud phlegmy sound as he wiped at his nose with his arm. He resembled a five year old and Niall just wanted to make him feel better. Sad Louis always managed to break his heart. 

“H-Harry,” was all Lou managed before breaking out into another loud round of sobs. His shaking body caused Niall to shaking as well. His heart squeezed as he realized it was the curly haired boy that just 24 hours ago had been in his exact spot with Louis cuddled into him. 

“What’d he do, babe?” He crooned, stroking Louis’ hair, hoping it was soothing. He remembered his mom doing the same thing when he was little and had scraped his knee up. Not that what he could only assume was heartbreak and a skinned knee were on the same level or anything. The crying lad shook his head into the crook of Niall’s neck and just pointed at the table where his phone sat. With a quizzical arch of his eyebrow, he leaned forward, careful to not disturb Louis too much, though from the sounds of it, he didn’t seem to be slowing down. Unlocking the device, the screen sprung to life on the last thing open, which was Twitter. 

> @Liliana1D: No @Harry_Styles! Go home to @Louis_Tomlinson! #StepAwayFromTheModel

The Irishman’s jaw tightened as he looked at the picture that showed the singer lookin’ right obscene as he danced with some girl. He should have known the twat would do something like this, wasn’t that his reputation? He clicked back in the app, allowing Louis to continue crying, feeling the tears soak his skin. The site went back to the boy’s @ mention page, showing a tweet from said popstar.

> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson I go crazy ‘cause here isn’t where I wanna be, and satisfaction feels like a distant memory.

It all suddenly clicked in his head as he realized that Harry had been tweeting Louis while being with the girl. A burst of protective anger ran through his veins as he tossed the phone back onto the coffee table.

“He’s a right prick,” Niall soothed, wrapping his arm back around Louis and pulling him into a tight hug. “Doesn’t deserve you, you know.” He glared daggers at the phone on the table, daring it to go off while he was here with Louis. He’d tell Harry where to shove his pretty, curly haired head, that was for damn sure. The brunette made an incoherent response, arms snaking around Niall’s waist. They both sat there, the Irishman growing ever angrier over his friend’s distress and the Doncaster boy dwelling on the tweet that had proven him wrong about Harry. Niall wasn’t sure what else to do aside from let his roommate let it all out, so that’s what he did. His eyes gazed at the TV, wishing he was hearing the characters instead of Adele and her song of lost love. This was all Harry’s fault, he thought bitterly as he ran his hand over Louis’ hair again. The time passed, and soon the older boy’s sobs died down and tears dried up as he cuddled closer into Niall’s side, having warn himself out with his cry.

“What would I do without you, Nialler?” He asked, voice thick with tears and already half asleep. 

“You’d be drowning in melted ice cream and tears,” Niall remarked back, eliciting a small chuckle from Louis. As his friend fell asleep on his shoulder, he silently cursed the boy band member. He was definitely getting killed in FMK. 

***

Harry’s night hadn’t ended well at all. After receiving Louis’ reply, all he wanted to do was walk straight out of the club, get in the nearest taxi and get his ass to the flat that he truly wanted to be.  In fact, he was seconds away from ruining all the work his management had done as he typed up one word to reply to the blue eyed boy’s tweet.

> @Louis_Tomlinson Yes

His thumb hovered over the send button when the phone disappeared from his grasp altogether. Panic rushed through him as his eyes flickered toward the thief. 

“Oh, Harry, no one likes the guy who sits on his phone all night,” Adelaide pouting, dangling his Blackberry between her two fingers just out of his reach.

“Give it back,” he growled, green eyes narrowing as he watched the device swing slightly. 

“But, baby,” she cooed, voice dipping low as she scooted closer to him and pressed her lips to his ear. “The boss man won’t be too happy with me if the only pictures they get are of me sitting here with my drink and you smiling away at your Blackberry. Why, they’ll think you’re much more interested in talking to someone else,” she whispered into his ear. I am, he retorted in his mind as he attempted to push away, the smell of her perfume suddenly an unpleasant burn in his nose. 

“It’s important,” was all he managed to say, fixing his angry gaze on her. The girl cringed back slightly, not used to garnering that sort of response to her flirtation tactics. But she wasn’t about to lose good money because Harry Styles didn’t want to play along.

“Is it now?” She smirked in a way that Harry assumed was supposed to be alluring. Really, it just looked evil. “Let’s see who’s so important than.” Another shock of panic rocked through his body as he watching her turn her attention to the phone which was still held away from them. Without much thought, he lunged for it. Adelaide let out a small shriek, unprepared for the slightly drunk boy to propel himself forward, and honestly, she wasn’t getting paid enough to deal with that. Her first instinct was to let go of the object, so she did. Time slowed slightly as Harry watching it fall from her grasp and directly into the drink on the table below it. 

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry,” the girl squeaked, seeing the look of anger that flashed across the boy’s green eyes. Carefully, he pulled the phone from the liquid and shook the alcohol off of it before wrapping it in the hem of his shirt as he prayed he’d be able to keep it alive. Without looking back at the model, he stood and headed towards the door, head down as he pressed every button on the phone. He sighed in disappointment as the screen stayed stubbornly blank. How was he going to reply to Louis now?

***

Since Louis had fallen asleep, Niall had rearranged him so he was laid across the couch under the same fleece he had been the day before. He’d also turned off that god forsaken Adele CD, and unmuted The Notebook, deciding to finish it off. (It was already almost done, so why not?) As the last scene started and he started to question why he’d thought it’d be a good idea to finish watching the tearjerker, a sharp knock sounded on the door. His eyes flickered to the sleeping boy, who just mumbled lowly under his breath before turning into the crease of the couch. Who the hell would be knocking at this hour? Pushing himself off of the reading chair, he padded quietly to the door and peeped out, only slightly worried about who he would see standing there. Normal people just didn’t show up at three in the morning. His eyes narrowed as he saw Harry standing there, hands shoved into his pockets as he looked down at the toes of his shoes. How dare he show up here, he thought to himself, feeling his protective instincts rising up again. All he wanted to do was throw the door open, drag him in by the collar of his stupid shirt and beat him in his stupid, heartbreaking face. But then beating up an international popstar probably was frowned down upon. Instead, Niall chose to continue to glare out the peephole at him, urging him to just leave already. He wasn’t welcome here. He watched as Harry looked at the door and raised his hand as if to knock again before shaking his head to himself and turning to head back down the stairs.

“That’s right,” Niall muttered under his breath as he watched the younger boy disappear down the stairs. “And don’t come back.”

***

It had been one week since Harry had heard from Louis. One whole week. And if he were being honest, it was torture. Since the night at the club, all he could think about was the blue eyed boy. He haunted his thoughts and he could swear he was starting to see him wherever he went, not to mention the fact that at one point he could have sworn he smelled the cologne he wore. (Of course, that made him feel crazy so he didn’t like to dwell on that too much.) All he knew was since that night he’d wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around the older boy, pull him close and never let him go. Well, amongst other things. After the death of his Blackberry, he’d bought a new phone, promptly using it to text Louis, asking him what he was up to. He had waited all day for a response, trying to not pay too much attention to the small crack in his heart that started to grow bigger as the hours passed without a reply. He could have been busy after all, it was no cause to worry. Then it was the next day, and still no response.

And then it was the day after that.

Though he didn’t want to admit it, he became worried, glancing at his phone every few seconds and wondering why he seemed to be getting the cold shoulder from the boy he’d fallen so hopelessly for. Liam and Zayn became worried for their friend as they watched him check his phone constantly, usually sighing afterwards as he placed it down in defeat. They also watched as he continued to tweet at the boy to no avail. From the looks of it, Louis had disappeared. He hadn’t tweeted for a week, and he hadn’t answered any of Harry’s texts, which in turn made the boy a right mess. 

It got to the point that Liam finally just asked Niall what was wrong. However, the Irishman played dumb as they sat at the movie theater together. Shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, he shrugged before hushing him. 

“The movie’s about to start, Li.” Days later, he still didn’t know what was causing his friend to be so distant. 

Harry sat on his bed, laptop open as he listened to his two bandmates talking in the living room. It was movie night, but he just wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t want to say it was because of the Doncaster boy, but he knew that would be a blatant lie, and he’d been lying so much lately. Telling the boys he was fine and telling the interviewers he was fine. He wasn’t fine. He wanted to talk to Louis, but for some reason, he obviously didn’t feel the same. A small pain resonated in his chest as he pulled up the boy’s Twitter, staring at the last thing that had been tweeted on week ago.

> @Louis_Tomlinson: @Harry_Styles And I can’t help myself, all I wanna hear you say is “Are you mine? “

He started to chew on his bottom lip as he kept his gaze trained on the words. Yes, he was. But apparently Louis wasn’t his. As another pain rippled through his chest, he clicked on the box marked “Tweet to Louis Tomlinson.” Unsure of what to say, he drummed his fingers over the keys, waiting for inspiration. Just as he was about to give up, the album he’d been listening to switched to another, starting with a[SONG](http://youtu.be/WdW48xSbb9s) he knew well. As it started and the lyrics sunk in, he started to type away the keyboard. 

> @Louis_Tomlinson Where are you now? As I’m swimming through the stereo, I’m writing you a symphony of sound. Where are you now?


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

Louis sat at the table, staring at the eggs and bacon he had made for himself for dinner. He felt his eyes start to burn and his nose start to tickle as he stared at them before angrily pushing them away. 

“It’s a cruel injustice when food makes you sad,” he grumbled to himself, trying to brush the offending tears from his eyes before they could fall down his cheeks. It had been a little over two weeks since “the incident,” and since than the smallest of things set him off. It was quite embarrassing really. It wasn’t even like he had good reason to be upset. He knew Harry couldn’t like him, he had known that. He was a ladies man. Not only that, but he was famous. He could have and do whatever and whomever he wanted, and Louis had been stupid to think for a second that he was that person. He shouldn’t have been so hurt seeing the younger boy with that girl, burying his face into the crook of her neck and looking downright obscene. The problem was though that he had been. And he still was. Obviously, even his fucking eggs and bacon made him tear up. And what was worse still is that he kept texting and tweeting at him. Niall had forbidden Louis from responding, telling him that Harry was a right twat and he should just cut all communication, but that was hard, especially when he couldn’t help but pretend that the popstar might actually miss him. He sighed and reached for his phone, opening his twitter app and looking over the past @ mentions from the boy.

> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson Stopped by last night, but I think you were asleep. #HopeIDidntWakeYou
> 
> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson Haven’t heard from ya in awhile. Are you okay?
> 
> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson Gettin a little worried that those eggs may have killed you 
> 
> @Harry_Styles: @Louis_Tomlinson Where are you now? As I’m swimming through the stereo, I’m writing you a symphony of sound. Where are you now?

It had taken everything in him not to respond. Everything. Yet he still looked at them every day, if only to trick himself into believing that maybe Harry cared. A loud thud resounded from Niall’s room, followed by a loud string of expletives. Lou wondered curiously as to what his best friend was up to when this phone vibrated in his hand. Looking down, he read the words that flickered across the screen.

> I miss you.

He bit his lip, feeling his hand quiver slightly as he stared at the three words. He was trying to push back the fresh load of tears, but he was failing. Failing _miserably_. The words started to blur as his eyes started to swim.

> I miss you.

“Lou?” Niall’s voice said, still slightly agitated about whatever it is he must have knocked over in his room. His head shot up, eyes wide and sparkling as the tears slid down his face. A small hiccup escaped his mouth and he saw his friend’s already stony expression turn absolutely angry. 

“It’s nothing,” he said hurriedly, wiping the back of his hand over his eyes and quickly putting his phone to sleep. 

“Don’t lie to me, Tommo,” the Irishman’s voice was flat. Dammit, he was tired of seeing his friend this way. He’d been a miserable person for the past two weeks, and what made it worse was that he had no way to help him. No matter what he could think of, he couldn’t get the boy to smile. He knew Louis was trying to act like it didn’t bother him, but he didn’t miss the moments when the usually bright and talkative boy would grow quiet and distant after seeing anything that could possibly remind him of Harry. Niall also knew that the the curly haired boy kept reaching out to his friend, breaking his heart even more, and with each text and tweet, the blonde just grew angrier.

How dare he think he could do that to Lou. Louis deserved so much better than a little prick who was going to string him along and make him feel like he wasn’t good enough, because he was. Louis was too good for him, and he wasn’t just saying that because he was his best friend. No. Lou deserved the world, dammit, and he wasn’t going to let some gangly popstar make him think otherwise. His eyes narrowed as he watched his roommate try to come up with some lie to make him believe that he wasn’t crying, yet again, because of this boy. Niall never really thought people saw red when they got exceptionally angry, but in that moment, he realized that it really did happen. Thank you, Harry Styles, he thought bitterly, as he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair closest to him, forgetting all about the fact that he’d just knocked down his beer bottle collection and heading towards the door.

“What are you doing?” Louis called after him as he threw the door open, jacket half on as he gritted his teeth. 

“Nothing,” he retorted, before slamming the door shut behind him, leaving the brunette sitting at the table with his cooling breakfast for dinner and a stunned expression etched across his face. Just gonna go give a popstar a piece of my mind. 

***

Harry was finished playing these games. He was over trying to get Louis to respond, and he was over the pitying looks his bandmates were giving him when he didn’t get that response. He was tired of avoiding all his favorite songs because they reminded him of Louis because, surprise, he’d been the one to introduce him to them. And he was most certainly tired of missing the older boy and not telling him. Earlier that morning they’d been in for a meeting with Simon, and maybe he was a little paranoid, but he couldn’t help but feel like Simon had a rather smug look on his face, and it annoyed him. It annoyed him to the point that he’d walked right out as soon as it had finished, climbed straight into the van and waited for the others to follow. That annoyance didn’t subside as they rode home in silence, Zayn and Liam exchanging looks as the youngest glared grumpily out the window. As they pulled closer to their shared flat, he actually seemed to get angrier as it hit him that he’d return back home for yet another night of being ignored before going to bed alone. No, he was done. He was done being ignored and he was done not telling Louis how he really felt. 

“Are you okay?” Zayn’s calm voice asked, snapping him out of his angry thoughts as they’d climbed the stairs to their floor. Harry’s hard green eyes flashed over him, before softening as he took in his friend’s worried expression. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… just wanna be alone, yeah?” He replied lowly, turning away. He didn’t want Zayn to use his good advice skills to stop him from doing what he felt he needed to do.

“You sure?” It was Liam who asked from ahead of them, pushing his key into the lock and undoing the deadbolt to let them in. His heart swelled at their obvious concern. 

“I’m sure. But thank you,” he attempted to smile as he pushed his way past the older boy and into the flat before continuing his way down the hall to his room. Carefully, he shut the door behind him, feeling the anger start to slip into his veins again at the thought of spending another evening alone in his room. Why couldn’t Louis just respond? Quickly, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and pulled up the boy’s number. As he started at the blank message, he tried to conjure up the words he wanted to say. How could he possibly sum up how he felt in a text of all things. There were three little words he could say, but he wouldn’t, because he just couldn’t. It was more of a self preservation thing really. Obviously Lou wouldn’t reciprocate the feelings, and at this point he’d rather just regain him as a friend. He still wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve the silent treatment, but he wanted it lifted. Quickly, he typed in three different words.

> I miss you. 

Pressing the send button, he threw himself onto his bed, dropping the phone onto his chest and folding his arms under his head. He stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the buzz of his phone to vibrate through his chest, but as the moments passed, it stayed stubbornly still. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he waited, knowing that if the older boy didn’t respond to that, he probably wasn’t going to respond to anything. All he wanted to do was know what he’d done wrong. If Louis didn’t want him in his life, than he could eventually be okay with that as long as it made the blue eyed boy happy, but he at least deserved to know why. He felt the tears slide down the side of his face and into his hair. With a small sniffle, he threw the crook of his arm over his eyes, trying desperately to stop them from burning. It wasn’t fair that the first person to come around and seem to want to know him for him would be the only person to turn away from him. Maybe he wasn’t someone that deserved to be known by the amazing boy. He choked back a sob, trying to keep it down so his roommates wouldn’t come in and see what was wrong. He continued to cry, the tears slicking his arm as he thought about how cruel fate was sometimes. It was some time before his tears dried up, leaving him feeling exhausted and empty. Yes, he’d leave Louis alone than, he thought, pulling his arm from his eyes and sniffling again before picking his phone up from his chest. He would, because obviously that’s what he wanted, but not before he let him know how he felt. His thumbs flew across the keys as he typed up his message.

> Louis, im sorry. I dont know what i did, but youll never know how truly sorry i am that i did it. I hope one day youll be able to forgive me, but until than, i am sorry i couldnt be what you wanted to be. Love, your Hazza.

He read over the message, thinking over if he wanted to send it, knowing that it would probably mean the end of the best friendship he’d ever had, even if it hadn’t lasted that long at all. His thumb hovered over the send button when he heard a sharp knock at the door. His ears perked up as he listened for someone to answer it.

“Ni?” He heard Liam’s confused voice ask. “I, uh, didn’t think we had plans today?” A startled sort of sound followed his question and Harry heard someone coming toward his room. Forgetting about the message, he set the phone aside and sat up, looking curiously at the door as it flew open, revealing a rather pissed off looking Irishman.

“What’s going on?” Liam asked quietly from behind the blonde, looking over his shoulder at Harry, who just stared back at the boy in his doorway. If looks could kill, he thought, noting how dark the usually bright blue eyes were. 

“Why can’t you just leave him alone?” Niall asked, voice pitched low as he glared at the boy on the bed. His own anger reignited at the accusation in the his voice. 

“Just leave him alone? Just leave him alone!” Harry’s voice was rough from crying, giving his tone an even harder edge. “Maybe he should tell me to just leave him alone.” Niall’s eyes narrowed.

“And why should he have to tell you to leave him alone, you lying twat?” He bit out, eyes trained on the green eyed boy, who held his glare. 

“I didn’t lie about anything,” Harry replied. What would he have possibly lied about anyway?

“Oh really?” Niall’s voice was filled with contempt as he looked at the younger boy. He noted that his eyes were red, much like Louis’ had been earlier, and it just made him that much angrier. How dare he think he had the right to cry. He wasn’t the one who had been strung along. He took a few steps into the room, causing the other boy to push himself up from the bed. “Didn’t lie about anything? So you didn’t flirt with him while you were out with a girl? Huh?” He took another step toward the famous boy, he also took a step forward in response. Liam tensed up as he watched them both. He didn’t have a good feeling about this. Harry’s eyebrows knit together.

“So he didn’t think to ask me about it?” His voice grew louder as his jaw set. He was ignoring him because of Adelaide? How did he even know about that?

“He shouldn’t have to ask you about it because you should have told him you cunt!” Niall shouted, the anger finally breaking through as he shoved Harry roughly. After catching his balance, the curly haired boy retaliated, shoving Niall back.

“He should have to because I didn’t even want to be there!” He shouted, going after the blonde boy now, who took a few steps back. “Did he even think for a second that I had to go?” His voice broke slightly. 

“You are not gonna turn this on him! Don’t you dare turn this on him!” Niall grabbed the front of Harry’s shirt, and pushed him into the wall, causing him to hit his head. Liam watched in shock as the two boys went at it, unsure of what to do, but knowing he would have to do something before anything gets broken, like Harry’s face. Or worse, Niall’s face. 

“I didn’t even want to be there! I tried to go and see him!” Harry strained against the shorter boy, who was surprisingly strong. Niall faltered slightly, remembering how he didn’t answer the door for him. “I… I needed to see him.” Harry looked at the older boy, the anger draining from his eyes. With a sigh, the Irishman loosened his grip slightly.

“He hasn’t been the same, you know,” he said, not looking him in the eye, suddenly feeling guilty. Harry’s green eyes widened as he looked at the blonde, letting the words sink in. “He misses you. But he thought you couldn’t like him.” His heart squeezed as he thought about the boy he’d missed so badly. Couldn’t like him? That had never been the problem. The problem was that he liked him far too much.

“But I do,” he replied lowly. It was Niall’s turn to look bewildered. “Far more than I probably should,” he said in response. Liam let out a sigh of relief as he saw the older of the two drop his hand.

“Then you better fix this.” Harry nodded. He would. 

***

Louis was sitting on the couch, watching yet another romance movie. (Moulin Rouge this time.) He had yet another pint of ice cream balanced on his knee as he ate from it, enjoying the fact that he could at least find happiness in the frozen dessert. He shoveled the ice cream into his mouth in an attempt to keep from crying again as the movie neared its end. As he watched the curtain fall, spelling the end for Nicole Kidman, a loud knock sounded on his door. He was quite tired of people showing up when he didn’t expect anyone. With a grumpy sigh, he set his pint on the table and pushed himself up from the couch. He didn’t care who was on the other side of that door, it better be good if he was going to miss out on other people’s sadness, which would be nice given how tired he was of his own sadness.

Looking over his shoulder to watch as Ewan McGregor got all snotty and sad, he unlocked the door.

“Look, it better be good, because honestly, this is the be-” he stopped as he turned around and his gaze was met with that of a pair of bright green eyes.

“Louis,” Harry breathed, looking at him as if he’d been lost and finally was found. “Can I come in?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOLOLOL I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS DOING IN THIS CHAPTER! So please, don’t judge me. This was my first time, okay.

The first thought to cross Louis’ mind was not just no, but hell no. Why should he let Harry in? Just because he had the biggest, prettiest pair of green eyes, or because the look he was giving him currently looked a lot like a puppy that had just been kicked? Because even hunched over with his hands shoved deep into his pockets and looking completely unsure, he was still one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen? Because even though it had felt like Louis’ heart had been torn directly from his chest,  Harry still managed to consume his every thought? No, he definitely shouldn’t let Harry in. In fact, he was quite certain he shouldn’t. After all, Niall wouldn’t be too happy about that, and after the mood he’d left in, Louis could only imagine what it’d be like when he got home and discovered the singer in their flat. 

No, if Louis knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t let Harry in. Unfortunately, he never really was one for thinking through what was and wasn’t good for him. With a slight shrug of his shoulder, trying to give off an air of indifference though he could feel his stomach knotting, he stepped to the side, pretending not to notice the glimmer of hope that flashed across the younger boy’s eyes. Trying not to meet his gaze, Lou cast his gaze downward, slowly closing the door after Harry had brushed passed him and entered the living room where his movie was still playing. Resting his head on the door, and taking a steadying breath, Louis closed his eyes. What was he doing. This wasn’t going to end well. He already knew he wasn’t what Harry wanted, something he had to remind the butterflies that were erupting low in his gut of. It was actually quite cruel for him to drag this out. Anyways, he was fine. Well… he would have been fine. Eventually. Letting out a low sigh, he turned around to face the taller boy, only to be taken aback by the way he was looking at him. Harry’s jade orbs stared at him earnestly, feeling as if it were picking apart his skin and seeing straight into his soul. A shiver ran down his spine at the soul searching gaze that settled into his bones as he realized that no one had never looked at him that way before. Those pesky butterflies started to flutter about more wildly as he felt a rush of hope run through his veins. 

“Hi,” Harry breathed, dipping his head and looking up at him through his eyelashes. If Louis knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t have to have dealt with the blush that this caused to run up his neck and color his cheeks. 

“H-hi,” he mumbled, fixing his eyes on the telly, which was displaying ‘The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.’ Yeah, well no one asked you, he thought bitterly at the screen, unwillingly to look away though knowing if he spared a glance at the singer, he’d end up lost in an endless sea of green. A heavy silence fell over them, filled only by the closing credit theme from the movie. He should probably say something. Something along the lines of, “why can’t you just leave my poor, crushed heart alone?” Except Louis couldn’t possibly say something like that to the boy. Maybe he’d just offer him a nice beverage. Yeah, that sounded like a good start. Why was he so awkward?

“Har-”

“Lou-” they both stopped, realizing the other had started speaking at the same moment. A small nervous chuckle slipped from Harry’s lips as he scratched the back of his head, causing his shirt to raise and expose a small strip of skin above his jeans dragging Louis’ attention down to it. “I’m sorry,” he said, nodding for the older boy to continue, but really, he didn’t have anything that important to say anyway. 

“No, it’s nothing. What were you going to say?” His voice croaked, sounding unused and tired. Whereas he had felt like a hole had been punched into his chest, now with the curly haired boy’s presence seeping into his skin, he just felt tired. It was almost like he could curl into a ball and sleep for days. (Preferably with the singer humming a song in his ear, but he wasn’t going to admit  _that_.) It was Harry’s turn to blush, causing a dash of red to spread across both of his cheeks. 

“I,” he paused, biting his lip and inhaling deeply. “I’m so sorry.” His voice broke slightly, conveying the fact that he might have meant it for more than just interrupting him. Louis felt his heart squeeze uncomfortably.

“You said that already,” he replied lowly, fixing his eyes on the slowly melting pint of ice cream sitting on the coffee table. 

“No, Lou, I’m sorry. About everything.” Louis fought the urge to look at him, hearing the strain in his voice. No, he couldn’t look at him. The popstar continued. “You have to know, I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be there with her. I should have told you. I don’t know why I didn’t. I should have…” Harry’s voice trailed off, sounding unsure of if he should continue. There was a shuddering breath and Louis’ resolve broke. Tearing his gaze from the soupy ice cream, he set it upon Harry’s. The air around him seemed to spark and he almost reeled back at the intensity burning deep in the younger boy’s eyes. Though they had just been their normal, bright green, they were now dark with decision. 

“Louis,” he took a step forward, causing the older boy’s heart to skip a beat before continuing in double time. The air was heavy and Louis wasn’t sure what to do as Harry took another step towards him. As he opened his mouth to continue whatever it was he seemed determined to say, the blue eyed boy cut him off. 

“Want something to drink?” He blurted out, quickly turning to head to the kitchen without waiting for an answer. He should have just said no. He should have just closed the door and gone back to his movie. He only made it to the dining room when he felt fingers close around his wrist, halting his escape. 

“Lou,” he said, voice low and husky. 

“Hm?” He hummed, concentrating on nothing else aside from the heat that was pumping through Harry’s finger tips and into his wrist. Carefully, the green eyed boy tugged on his hand, turning Louis around so he was facing him.

“Louis, please look at me,” he almost whispered. Looking down at the ground, the older boy bit his lip and shook his head. He didn’t want to. Not at all. He could feel the cracks in what little barrier he had left and he didn’t need them to break that small bit of resolve they provided. Slowly, Harry brought his hand towards Louis’ chin, gently lifting it upwards with his finger so that he had no choice but to look at him. As soon as their eyes locked, the electric current from the first time they’d met started to buzz through the air. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever had the honor of meeting,” Harry started, keeping one hand around the older boy’s wrist and the other beneath his chin. “I haven’t felt like anyone has actually wanted to know me for me in, well, in awhile but you, Louis, you made me feel like even if I may be a screw up, everything would be okay. That we’d be okay.” Louis felt his breath catch as he held Harry’s unwavering stare. “It broke my heart not knowing what I’d done, and knowing that I must have hurt you. But Louis, you must know,” he paused again, still holding the gaze. “You must know that I love you.” 

Louis wasn’t exactly sure what the rush of feeling was the exploded in his chest, making him feel complete for the first time in the past couple of weeks. He wasn’t exactly sure how to breathe anymore, either. He took a step back, pulling his wrist from Harry’s grasp as he tried to find some air from the walls that seemed to close in around him as his heart seemed to swell. He loved him. He, Harry, loved him, Louis. His back hit the wall behind him, stopping his retreat. He could feel a little, giddy smile start to pull at the corners of his mouth.  _You must know that I love you_. Harry looked at him worriedly, unsure of how to take the older boy’s reaction but taking the smile and glint in his eye to be a good sign. Now all he wanted to do was show him how much he meant it. Slowly, he stepped closer to where Louis stood with his back against the wall. 

Louis watched, mouth slightly agape, as Harry drew closer to him. His head reeled as he continue to try desperately to wrap his mind around the confession the popstar had just let fall from his lips. His whole body buzzed with warmth as Harry gently placed his hands on either sides of Louis’ head, as he cocked an eyebrow at him, almost as if asking permission. He wasn’t exactly sure why, because even though he may not be that coherent at the moment, the singer would never need to ask him permission for anything. He moved forward slightly, closing the space between their bodies, as he dragged one hand down from the wall and onto his neck, threading his fingers into the blue eyed boy’s hair.  Leaning ever closer, his lips stopped and hovered just above Louis’, causing the heat to creep up through the older boy’s body and up to his neck and into his cheeks. 

“We walk into the fire, we dance into the fire,” he whispered softly, dragging his other hand agonizingly slow from the wall to wrap around his waist. As the breath of his words danced across his lips, Louis recognized them as the song that started it all. “I didn’t lead you on, you came and dropped the bomb that  blew me away.” Time seemed to still as Harry’s eyes, which had held his own, dragged down to look at his lips. It was almost torture and Louis couldn’t take it anymore. He was quite certain he would die soon if Harry didn’t just kiss him already. Another second passed.  _Fuck it_. Without much hesitation or thought, he pushed up on his toes, closing the gap between their lips and drawing a shocked gasp from Harry. Pushing further into the kiss, Louis tried to convey the truth of his feelings to the other boy, trying desperately to show him that he loved him too. That deep down, he probably always had.  _You came and dropped the bomb that blew me away_. Harry let out a low growl as he pushed back, seizing control and pushing him back into the wall. A shiver shot down the older boy’s spine as he felt his tongue trace his bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth, gently tugging on it with his teeth. A soft keen sounded in his throat as he worked his hands into Harry’s curls and tried to pull him closer into him. The taller boy moved his way from Louis’ lips, sucking his way down his jaw and to his neck, leaving a trail a red marks. His gasp cut through the air as Harry found the sensitive spot just above his collarbone with his teeth, kneading it with his tongue as he sucked a purple mark there. A soft chuckle tickled the spot as Harry pulled back slightly.

“You’re not going to pass out on me again, are you?” He asked, looking down at the beautiful boy in front of him who still had his hands fixed in his hair. A faint pink tinged his cheeks and the blue of his eyes were almost completely swallowed by the black of his pupils as he stared back hungrily. 

“That’s not even funny,” he growled, before pulling him back to him. He still hadn’t said what he knew he needed to say, but he figured showing him would be just as good. Especially since wow, he missed out at that party. His mouth opened slightly, begging Harry for entrance, needing to deepen the kiss. Complying quickly, their tongues danced together, as they both fought for control. Harry pushed him closer into the wall, grinding his hips slightly into his own, causing him to moan deep in his throat. Moving his hands from the green eyed boy’s hair, he wrapped his arms around his neck, and using the wall for leverage, wrapped his legs around his waist. Another moan worked its way from his mouth to Harry’s as the younger boy managed to press him ever closer to the wall, sealing any space between them. The friction left them both breathless and the air grew incredibly heavy and thick with the heat that surrounded them. It was almost tangible as it consumed them and Harry ground his hips slowly into Louis’ again. 

“Room,” he managed to choke out as he tore his mouth away before placing it just below Harry’s ear, nipping slightly.

“”Hm?” He moaned in response, lost in the feel of the older boy’s mouth on his skin. Not wanting to break away to repeat himself, Louis untangled his legs, setting his feet gently on the ground before slowly walking the boy in the direction he wanted him to go, not letting his lips move from the spot below Harry’s ear that had him making such a delectable sound. With every step, it got harder to breathe as he felt the other boy’s fingers work into his hair and bring his mouth back to his. Suddenly, he felt Harry stop as they ran into something. Making an irritated sound, he looked at what had stopped their progress, only to see the couch that he seemed to have forgotten existed. (So sue him, he was preoccupied.) With a devilish smirk, he pressed his hand onto Harry’s chest before pushing him over the side of the arm rest and onto the couch. Walking around the corner, he straddled the younger boy, highly aware of the heated stare that never left him as he did so. With a smile, he pressed both palms on either side of his head, enjoying the fact that Harry had to look up to him for once. Lowering his body until their noses were touching, his smile grew wider.

“You must know, that I love you too,” he finally breathed, feeling warmth spread through his chest as he finally released the words. Sealing his confession with a kiss, he enjoyed the feel as Harry wrapped his arms around his waist before pushing them both further up the couch. Carefully, he maneuvered them both, using one arms to hold on to Lou as he turned and switched their positions, never once breaking the contact as their tongues moved languidly together. Balancing himself on his knees, his hands danced at the hem of Louis’ shirt, pulling it upwards, only pulling away just long enough to get the fabric over his head and arms before tossing it to the side. Louis’ hips bucked slightly as he felt Harry’s hands on the top of his sweats, untying the strings so slowly, he was certain time itself had slowed. There was no other explanation. His hands instinctually went to Harry’s waistband. 

“No,” he breathed, pulling back slightly, green eyes black with lust. “Let me take care of you, babe.” Louis felt Harry’s hand as it snaked beneath the wristband of his boxers and his hips moved into the touch. A gasp erupted from his mouth as his grasp found his throbbing cock, slowly brushing back and forth as Harry silenced Louis with another heated kiss. Stars started to pop in the back of his eyelids as he continued to stroke him, teasingly slow. The needy whines emitting from the older boy made Harry smirk into the kiss. Twisting his hand slightly and grinding to create a bit more friction, his smile grew more pronounced as he felt Louis buck up into his hand. He could feel Harry’s smile, and he was not amused by the fact that he seemed to enjoy the keens that were tearing from his throat without his permission. Just as he went to say something though, he picked up speed, causing him to lose all track of what he was about to say as more stars speckled his eyelids. Instead, he nipped at Harry’s bottom lip, pulling a satisfactory yelp from the younger boy, who continued to pick up speed as he pumped his fist along Louis’ hard dick. His breath started to come in quick, frantic gasps as Harry worked his lips back down to his neck. Grabbing onto the back of the singer’s shirt, he gripped the fabric tightly.

“H-Harry,” he stammered, trying to find coherency to get the words out, but failing miserably. He felt lips brush his ear lobe.

“It’s alright, Lou bear,” he breathed. “Come for me.” With a few more strokes, Louis felt as his stomach muscles tightened before releasing, creating a sticky mess on the curly haired boy’s hand. The stars that had blinded him started to fade as he lazily opened his eyes, still trying to catch his breath as he looked up at Harry. With a small smile, he lifted himself up slightly, feeling as if he were floating and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. That more than made up for the heartbreak he’d felt, especially since it had been a lie. Harry loved him. The revelation hit him again as the younger boy pulled his hand from his boxers and slowly stood to go wash off his hand in the bathroom. He loved him. He couldn’t believe that just a couple of months ago, Harry had been nothing but a face on every magazine, poster and DVD and now he was in his flat and God. He loved him. With a giddy giggle, he threw his arms triumphantly in the air, not getting up from where he laid because, well, he honestly didn’t think he could, even if he wanted to. 

“I hope you don’t get that excited just for anyone,” he heard Harry’s low drawl as he came back into the room. Lifting his head to look at the flushed boy who’s eyes were still dark. Laughing, Louis held out his hand, motioning him to come back to him.

“No, Hazza,” he said lightly, scooting into the back of the couch so the singer could lay beside him. “I only save that for the ones with excellent music taste.” As the younger boy turned so that he was facing Louis, the older boy hooked his leg over his hip, and pulled him closer before pressing another kiss onto his lips. It started off slowly, and man, could he get used to this. Soon, it started to pick up speed, becoming nothing but teeth and tongues. Had they been a little more aware of their surroundings, they probably would have heard the key in the lock. A particularly obscene moan echoed from Harry’s mouth.

“Oh, Jaysus, get a room!” Niall cried, throwing his hands over his eyes as the two jumped and pulled away, causing Harry to almost fall off the couch. He smiled up at the Irishman bashfully, even if he couldn’t see him.

“Oi, Niall! Can’t you see I’m busy!” Louis retorted. “Get outta here, leprechaun!” Pulling his hands away, Niall shot Louis a glare before fixing a knowing look on Harry, who nodded back slightly. Louis watched slightly confused as Niall’s eyes brightened slightly.

“Well, princess, I guess I’ll leave you and Styles here to be. Just lemme know if you need anything. Some snacks? A condom? Let me know!” He laughed loudly as he headed to his room. “Oh, God love ya.” Louis heard him quote as he closed the door. Well that moment was ruined. He turned back to Harry, who was watching him fondly, a small smile on his lips as his gaze traced the planes of Louis’ face. 

“I love you,” he said again, if only for the satisfaction of being able to say it. 

“I love you, too,” the older boy smiled. Yeah, maybe the moment had been ruined, but that’s okay, he thought as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Harry’s neck. They had plenty of time to make up for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No song for this chapter, but Jack Savoretti's cover of Ring of Fire is what I imagine for the important bits.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

Three sharp beeps cut through his consciousness, pulling Harry out of the warm, content dream that he’d fallen into. As he felt the life stirring through his body, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of deja vu as his green eyes slowly opened, letting in what little light was emitting throughout the room. A low mumble pulled his attention toward his side, where Louis lay, curled into him with his face pressed into the crook of his neck. A lazy smile pulled across his lips as he remembered them both fading away into sleep together, completely comfortable where they were even though they were both pressed together on a couch. The last thing Harry had remembered was Louis muttering about the ice cream that had melted on his coffee table before he slipped into the best sleep he had had since, well, the last time he’d fallen asleep on this couch. The three beeps sounded from his pocket again, dragging his eyes from the sleeping boy’s face towards the offending sound. Rolling his eyes, he shoved his hand into his pocket, grabbing the phone and pulling it free of its confines. Without looking at who it was or what they wanted, he silenced it and tossed it onto the table, much as he should have done the first time. Snuggling in closer to Louis, Harry sighed, letting his eyes slip back shut. The warm breathes on his neck lulled him back into sleep as he smiled contentedly to himself. It really didn’t matter what they wanted anyway, because it really couldn’t compare to what he had right there. 

***

The second time Harry woke up, it was to the smell of smoke. Eyes widening in alarm at the harsh scent that filled his nose, he sat upright, reaching for Louis and not finding him there.

“Lou?” He called, both looking for the older boy and trying to find the source of the obvious fire. 

“Uh, yeah?” Louis’ voice called from the kitchen. Grabbing for his phone so he could call the fire department, he hopped off the couch and headed towards the kitchen, already running through the checklist of how to put out kitchen fires in his head. As he entered the room, there was a thick cloud of smoke sifting through the air, clouding his view of Louis, who was attempting to grab the blackened toast from the toaster with a pair of tongs. 

“What’re you doing?” He asked, genuinely bewildered by the scene, and wondering why in the world the smoke detector hadn’t gone off yet. The older boy looked up from his task, smiling at him sheepishly, eyes flickering up towards the ceiling and back to him. Looking up, Harry saw the smoke detector hanging precariously by its wires above him. Well that explains that than.

“Well, I thought since last time you cooked for me, I’d cook for you. But apparently I still can’t crack toast,” he replied, cheeks turning a bright pink as he averted his stare back to the pieces of bread that could probably be used for charcoal now. With a small chuckle as his heart swelled from just how adorable Louis looked right now with his sleep ruffled hair and the tongs poised to grab the toast, he walked into the smokey kitchen, shaking his head slightly.

“It’s the thought that counts,” he smiled, wrapping his hand around the blue eyed boy’s and bringing it down as he drew close to him. Louis looked up at him, eyes sparkling through the haze as Harry unleashed his full on, charming smile on him. Leaning down, the popstar pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Good morning, babe,” he breathed, enjoying the content look that had settled over Louis’ features. “How about I take over, and you can be my lovely assistant?” He asked as he waggled his eyebrows, causing the shorter boy to snort. 

“Alright, Styles, but if you mess up my kitchen,” he jokingly warned, wagging a finger at him.

“If I manage to mess up your kitchen more than you have, than you may feel free to punish me,” Harry enthused, opening the fridge and checking inside. Laughing loudly, Louis went to the counter and hopped up, settling himself in and enjoying the view as the famous lad bent over to search the bottom row.

***

Louis scrolled through his @ mentions on Twitter as he tried to ignore the angry growling of his stomach being cause by the delicious smell of the omelets that Harry was creating. He hadn’t checked them since the Harry Situation had arisen, scared to see what it was they were saying especially since that was how he’d found out in the first place. But now, with the happiness that he’d felt when he’d awaken and found himself still curled into Harry and not alone still coursing through his veins, he felt like he could handle scrolling through. It wasn’t like he was of much use to the younger boy anyway who had promptly taken away Louis’ assistant duties when he managed to completely destroy one of the tomatoes. Though, to be fair, the knife wasn’t exactly the sharpest so it wasn’t like it was entirely his fault that maybe he’d brutalized the poor vegetable. As he skimmed the messages, most of them showing some sort of concern towards his absence from the social network, he listened as Harry[ SANG ](http://youtu.be/WLcndYCqmxU)lowly to himself. 

“ Oh maybe, we were made, we were made for each other.” His voice floated through the air as Lou stopped on one message.

> @HazAndLou: Really missin’ @Louis_Tomlinson and @Harry_Style ‘s tweets to each other :(

It had never really occurred to him that people would have missed their interactions. Well, people other than him. Eyeing the boy at the oven, making sure he was engrossed in his mission to keep them both from starving, he pulled up his phone’s camera and quickly snapped a picture just in time to catch him flipping the omelet again. Biting his lip to keep from smiling too widely, he attached it to a tweet.

> Meet my new chef. You may know him as @Harry_Styles 

Hopefully this would make those followers who cared happy again, because it sure as hell made him happy as he pressed send, blasting the picture onto the internet. 

“What’re you up to?” The curly haired boy’s deep timbre made him jump and look up wide eyed as if he’d been caught red handed, though it wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong. 

“Nothin’,” he replied, not too convincingly, causing Harry to raise an eyebrow at him as he plated the eggs. 

“I make you breakfast and you lie to me?!” He exclaimed, throwing his hand over his heart in mock betrayal. 

“Well, I was trying to make breakfast and then you took over,” Louis replied, swinging his legs slightly, eyes locking onto the steaming plate of egg and tomato and cheese and just about everything else delicious. 

“Details, details,” the popstar sighed, grabbing both plates and walking towards him before cutting to the right, passing the plate right under his nose. “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what you were doin’?” He asked innocently as Louis’ stomach unleashed the sound of a baby T-rex. With his wide green eyes staring into his soul as he held the food hostage, Louis couldn’t deny him, even if he wanted to, though honestly he probably wouldn’t have anyway. 

“Just making my triumphant return to Twitter is all,” he said truthfully. Looking at him skeptically, Harry shrugged, motioning with his head toward the dining room.

“Alright, I’ll believe you, but only because I love you.” The words sent a thrill down Lou’s spine and he wondered if it would ever go away. He didn’t particularly mind it, so it wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing if it didn’t. Hopping down from the count, he followed the taller boy as he walked into the dining room and sat the plates down, before falling into one of the seats and smiled up at him. Louis probably wouldn’t ever get tired of that smile, nor did he think he’d tire of having someone who could actually cook around. But as Harry peered up at him through his lashes, sunny smile pulled across his face, looking utterly content with his life, all thoughts of food disappeared from his mind as he walked up to him and placed a leg on either side of him, straddling the younger boy. 

“Thanks, Hazza,” he said lowly, leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to the space just below Harry’s ear. Slowly, he kissed his way along his jaw and up to the corner of the curly haired boy’s mouth before stopping. Hungry jade eyes met his own, equally hungry crystalline ones. “Should we eat than?” He asked breathily, lips still hovering just above Harry’s. Without hesitation, the singer pushed forward, connecting their lips in a kiss that was nothing but tongues and teeth, causing them both to forget the omelets completely.

***

Louis’ nerves were on the fritz as he sat at the long meeting table in the large corporate building. After he and Harry had partaken in everything but breakfast, the singer had checked his phone to finally see what the messages he’d received earlier that morning. Many of them had been from his bandmates, one, which had been quite funny from Zayn, Harry had shown him:

> so im gonna assume the little irish one finished you off and disposed of your body because we havent heard back from you. will promptly open auditions to replace you. xx

But after the Cheshire lad had filtered through his friends’ text, his face grew dark as he eyed another.

“What’s up?” Louis had asked, genuinely concerned with what could possibly have caused him to go from so happy looking to so, well, pissed. He had just shook his head though.

“Are you up for running some errands with me?” He asked, eyes still focused on his phone. Of course Louis was up to it, as long as he was with Harry, he’d probably be okay with hijacking buses or something. Of course, now that he was sitting in a meeting room at SyCo, he wasn’t too sure if he really was up for it. Harry had left out that those errands included meeting Simon Cowell. 

On the ride over, Harry had briefly informed him that he had an image to uphold and that he understood why, but that didn’t mean that he liked it. He also informed him that Simon hadn’t exactly been too keen on the two boys befriending each other and that he hadn’t been too amused by the tweet that Louis had sent that morning, especially since he had been convinced that their relationship had come to an end. But he hadn’t given it much thought until they actually pulled up at the tall building.

Now, here he was, sitting in a large (rather comfortable) office chair, tapping his foot nervously as he and Harry waited for Simon Cowell to walk in. A firm pat ascended on his knee as Harry tried to calm him.

“It’s okay, Lou bear,” he soothed, looking at him earnestly. “I’ll do all the talking, it’s okay. Me and Uncle Simon have an understanding of each other. I just want him to meet you is all.”

“But why?” Louis whined, chewing on his lip, causing the younger boy’s eyes to drag down to his mouth. 

“Because anyone who meets you would love you, and he can’t be angry if he loves you, right?” His voice was low and calming and Louis stopped tapping his foot as vigorously, though it still tapped mind you. 

“It wasn’t very nice dragging me here, Styles,” he tried to joke. The corner of Harry’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at the attempt.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he winked. As they held each others gaze and the air started to grow thick, the door opened, causing them both to jump and whip their heads towards the intruder. This is it, Louis thought to himself as he eyed the man in the doorway. He knew Simon’s reputation. He wasn’t exactly supposed to be the nicest person ever, and sure, he seemed at least human when he was One Direction’s mentor on The X Factor, but that didn’t stop him from being the most daunting person Louis had ever seen. Ever. 

“Harry,” he nodded to the green eyed boy next to him.

“Hey, Uncle Simon,” Harry responded cheerily, laying it on thick in hopes of buttering his boss up. Simon’s dark eyes flickered in Louis direction and he wondered if he could feign a stroke to get out of this meeting thing. He loved Harry, he did, but he definitely didn’t want to get into that with Simon Cowell of all people. 

“You must be the infamous Louis,” he said, not sounding disdainful, but not sounding happy either. 

“Uh, yeah,” he gulped, unsure on if he should look him straight in the eye or not. This was more stressful than if he were meeting Harry’s parents. “I don’t know if I’m really infamous though….sir?” He tacked on, trying to be respectful.

“Oh really?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Why’s that?” He turned to Harry who just shrugged. Fat lot of help he was.

“Well, I dunno what you’ve heard about me, but I’m really just a boy that works at a bookstore. No infamy to be had here, sir,” he replied, feeling his face heat up under the scrutiny from the older man. 

“Ah, but infamous on the internet,” he shot back, sitting down across from the two. 

“Well, that kind of makes me sound like a porn star or something,” Louis said before he could stop himself. His eyes grew wide as he realized what had just come out of his mouth, and to Simon of all people. There was a beat of silence before a loud barking laugh emitted through the air. Though he would have expected the laugh to come from Harry, it actually came from Simon. A small sigh of relief sounded beside him from the younger boy as he leaned forward, bright smile plastered on his face. 

“It was kind of a poor choice in words,” he added. Simon shook his head as his eyes passed over the two boys, flickering from one to the other. 

“You know, Louis, you have to be something special,” he finally said, causing him to pause. Well that wasn’t what he was expecting and judging from the look on Harry’s face, that wasn’t what he’d expected either. Seeing their confused looks, he continued. “I haven’t seen Harry look the way he does talking about anyone else the way he does when he talks about you. That, and he most certainly hasn’t pushed my buttons so hard over someone before,” he chuckled, shaking his head. It wasn’t like Simon did the things he did to be mean, quite the opposite actually. He loved Harry like a son and he wanted nothing but for him to be happy, but he also wanted to protect him. It was just unfortunate that he couldn’t protect him and let him be happy at the same time. 

“Oh,” Louis breathed, the weight of what Simon had just said settling on him. It wasn’t like he didn’t believe Harry when he’d said he loved him, but it seemed different when someone confirmed it. It was real. Though since the singer had showed up on his doorstep last night he’d felt like he’d been in a dream, now it seemed like real life and, well, it made him ecstatic. Of course, he couldn’t scream his love for the boy at the top of his lungs right now like he really wanted to. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but the older man held his hand up to silence him.

“I want nothing more than for you to be happy, Harry, you should know that,” he preambled. “But I can’t let you two be together-”

“No one said I had to listen,” Harry cut in, eyes hardening. Louis felt his heart stop cold.

“Would you let me finish?” Simon sighed, fixing his gaze on the popstar. “I can’t let you two be together in public. We’ve had this conversation before, Harry, and it still stands. It’s for the better and your fans aren’t ready. Not yet.” Louis didn’t miss the hopeful note in his voice at the end of his statement. Maybe Simon wasn’t as horrid as the TV made him out to be. It took a moment for it to settle in.

“So, you mean, you aren’t going to try and stop me?” Harry asked, slightly confused. It almost didn’t seem right. He had been prepared to throw everything he had at his boss. 

“Who am I to keep you from loving who you want to love?” Simon asked simply, shrugging his shoulders. “I never wanted to keep you from liking him, I just wanted you to be smart about it. Besides, even if I did want to stop him, it’s not like you wouldn’t have done it anyway,” he remarked, looking at Harry as if he were a kid getting a lecture. The younger boy just shot him a charming smile. Louis wondered if Simon had a hard time denying the boy anything. 

“Does this mean no more girls?” Harry asked, eyes sparkling. There was a heavy pause.

“How about less girls?” Simon asked. “You’ll only have to go out with one every once in a while to keep people from talking.” Though the question had been asked of Harry, they both turned to Louis.

“Well,” he wasn’t exactly sure what to say. “I mean, it isn’t real, right?” He said. 

“Exactly,” the older man nodded. “So, just, try to keep the Twitter flirtation to a minimum?” He finally asked, eyeing Louis full on now. He felt his cheeks heat up as he thought about the tweet he’d sent that morning. Oops. 

“Yeah, I’ll do what I can,” he said bashfully, eliciting a sigh from Simon, who just accepted the answer. An impish smile stretched across Harry’s face as he stared at his boss.

“You’re gettin’ soft on me, Uncle Si,” he said affectionately. 

“Yeah, yeah, you little devil, I’m just trying to keep your teenaged rebellion at a minimum,” he drawled jokingly. With a chuckle, they both stood and Harry walked over, throwing his arms around the man. 

“Thank you,” Louis heard him whisper. Simon patted Harry’s back.

“I’m just glad you’re happy,” he replied before pulling away and looking at Louis. 

“You better be good to him,” he warned. The blue eyed boy didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he wasn’t, though the chances of that happening were about the same as surviving being thrown into a vat of lava. (Which, come to think of it, was probably what Simon would do.) 

“Will do,” Lou nodded. Simon turned back to Harry.

“And will you tell Liam that he can come see me whenever he needs to? He texted saying he needed to talk, which is a little worrisome because Liam hardly ever is the one that needs a one on one meeting,” he said, eyebrows knitting together. Harry nodded, eyes flickering over to Louis before back to the man in front of him.

“I’ll let him know.” Nodding again to the two boys, Simon made his way to the door before letting himself out. As the door swung shut behind him, Louis threw his arms up in the air in triumph as Harry launched himself at him, wrapping his arms around the older boy’s neck. 

***

After what seemed like a long, electrically charged car ride to the One Direction flat, the two boys walked quickly into the building, up the stairs and to the front door. Giggling, Harry pushed the door open stopping abruptly and causing Louis to look at see what had made him stop so suddenly, especially since they were on a mission to get to his room as soon as possible. His eyes grew wide as they took in the sight of Niall sitting atop of Liam on the leather couch, lips red and bruised from what must have been a pretty heated kiss. The Irishman smiled widely at his friend while Liam looked up at Harry.

“So I’m guessing this is what you needed to talk to Simon about, huh?” Harry chuckled, all the small instances piecing themselves together in his head. He probably should have realized that Li and Niall had been spending a lot of time together, but really, he had been slightly preoccupied. 

“Uh, yeah,” Liam replied, a dark mark blossoming on the underside of his jaw and a blush blossoming on his cheeks. 

“Well, as you were,” the youngest boy of the four smiled, mock saluting him before grabbing Louis’ hand and pulling him in the direction of his room. As he was dragged along, Louis’ eyes met Niall’s and he sent him a wink. He wasn’t even bothered by the fact that Niall hadn’t told him because, well, he was just happy that his best friend was happy. He couldn’t think of anyone who deserved to be happier more than Ni, aside from well, Harry. That, and he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at how far they’d come from just reading about the boys in magazines when they should have been working. Harry pushed the door to his room open, pulling them both inside before pulling Louis to his chest.  

“Lou bear?” He breathed, looking down at him.

“Yeah?” Louis asked, looking up at him, blue eyes sparkling brightly.

“I love you,” Harry said with a smile, just loving how the words felt when he said them.

“I love you too,” the older boy replied, loving how the words made sent a shiver down his back. Leaning forward, Harry pressed one of first of many secret kisses to Louis’ lips as he pushed the door shut.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis Tomlinson is just a boy from Doncaster with a slight Twitter obsession and an even slighter obsession with current hot boy band One Direction. He never really thought anything would happen if he tweeted at member of the dynamic trio. Boy, was he wrong.

Louis had his head down on the dining table, counting backwards from a hundred and focusing on breathing evenly. Well, as evenly as he possibly could at that moment. A warm hand placed itself on his back and started to rub soothing circles into it.

“You alright there, Princess?” Niall’s concerned voice asked, though he already knew his best friend wasn’t. Obviously, if he was, he probably wouldn’t have asked Liam, Zayn and that blonde girl Zayn had been hanging around with for the past few months (Perrie, was it?) to come over to give him emotional support. Though, if he was being completely honest, he didn’t know how Louis could possibly know today was going to be the day. 

“Nooooooo,” the older boy moaned into the wood of the table, cursing that day months ago when Harry had talked him into reapplying to university. He didn’t even like school. Niall wouldn’t be there. What if they said no. Really, he was just a bundle of wrecked nerves and he couldn’t handle it. He could feel the worried looks burning into the back of his head as his company watched him have his panic attack. Harry had texted him ten minutes ago saying he was almost to the flat and that he’d check the mail for him, which had been their agreement. Louis reapply, Harry be the one with the agonizing job as mail checker. 

“You sound like you need a drink or two,” Zayn laughed, causing Perrie to chuckle quietly beside him. Louis considered flipping off the singer, mainly because it would make him feel a little better, but decided it’d be best to just wallow in his panic. Besides, Zayn would probably just start some sort of banter with him and he just couldn’t handle that right now. 

“Or ten,” Liam chimed in, raising an eyebrow at Niall, who still stood by Louis with his hand on his back. The older boy continued to moan as he thought about how Harry had given him those big, green puppy dog eyes as he proposed that he send an application back to uni so he could get a degree in business.

“Wouldn’t it be fun to run a record label or to be able to manage the bands you find?” He had dropped casually, referring back to their conversation from so long ago as he searched his closet for an outfit while Louis watched from his bed. And of course it would be fun, how could it not? He loved discovering new music, might as well get paid for it, right?

“But Harry, I can’t go back,” he’d whined, trying his best to not instantly give in, and finding it harder than originally anticipated. It was just his eyes were so big and _green_. 

“Aw, babe, are you sure?” Harry had replied, a devilish glint in his eye as he left his closet and started to saunter towards where Louis sat. Though they’d been dating for a few weeks, the way Harry bit down on his bottom lip still got the blue eyed boy’s pulse racing, and it was just entirely unfair. 

“Y-yeah,” he’d stammered as he pushed further up the bed until his back hit the headboard. 

“And why’s that?” He’d purred as he got onto the bed and started to crawl towards him. With his senses full of those green eyes and chestnut curls, well, Louis couldn’t exactly remember why. How embarrassing. 

“B-because,” he breathed as Harry reached him, crawling into his lap and fixing his gaze on Louis’ mouth. 

“That’s not a very good reason, Lou,” he said slowly, flickering his gaze up to the stunned boy’s before fixing it back on his mouth. And as the singer had languidly moved his mouth to cover his, Louis had lost all of his resolve and, well, now he was here. 

“Didn’t you say he was almost here like, forever ago?” Niall asked, eyeing the door cautiously. Maybe he’d been mugged. Louis moaned louder. 

“What if he can tell it’s a rejection letter?!” He said, rubbing his face into the table, ignoring the sound of disapproval from his friends. It wasn’t his fault he was imagining the worst. It’d be easy to tell, wouldn’t it? What if he was just trying to put off the inevitable? Or worse, what if he wasn’t going to get it today after all and he’d have to go through this all over again?

“Louis, babe, you need to breathe,” Perrie’s soft voice soothed as another, smaller hand settled onto his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I’m sure Harry just got sidetracked by something. Or he probably ran into a fan. No big deal,” she said as she swatted Niall’s hand away and started to massage the tension from Louis’ shoulders. They hadn’t known each other that long, Zayn just recently admitting to his bandmates that maybe he’d found someone that he wanted to be more than a fling, but Louis and Perrie had gotten on quite well. She was an absolute sweetheart and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love the fact that she managed to turn Zayn from Bad Boy Sex God to Goofy Love Struck Teenager. (Not that Zayn would ever admit to that, mind you.)

“But Perriiiiiie,” he whined relaxing slightly as she kneaded a knot in between his shoulder blades. 

“No buts, Tomlinson,” she threatened.

“Zayn, make your girlfriend be nice to me,” he said, moving his head to peer at the younger boy, who just shrugged. 

“I’d say she’d being plenty nice, she hasn’t given me a back rub,” he retorted, mock jealousy coloring his tone. As Louis opened his mouth to reply, he heard the sound of the door knob jiggling as Harry tried to pry the sometimes difficult door open. Sitting up abruptly, he heard Perrie squeak as he stared at the door watching as a head of curls peaked in through the crack.

“Hi,” was all Harry said as he smiled at Louis before entering and closing the door behind him. Hi? Was hi all he was going to say? Couldn’t he see that Louis was about to start hyperventilating?

“Hey,” he managed, eyes roaming over the taller boy as he walked towards him, searching for the mail that he should have but the bastard had his hands behind his back.

“How was your day?” He asked, stopping feet away and directed the question not only to his boyfriend, but to his friends who were sitting around the table behind him. His smile grew wider as he saw Liam and Niall sitting besides each other and Perrie balanced on Zayn’s knee. Of course, it might also have been the giddiness from having checked the mail and finding the letter.

“It’d be better if you’d gimme what I want,” Louis said impatiently, trying to peer around Harry to see if he had the letter behind his back.

“Oh, Lou bear, in front of our friends?” He asked cheekily, winking suggestively as he moved to keep Louis from seeing the envelope clutched in his hands. Niall made a small gagging sound.

“Been there, done that you guys,” he remarked, causing the others to laugh. The oldest of the group pushed himself from his chair, eyes full of worry as he looked at Harry.

“Hazza, please?” He begged. He just wanted to get it over with. He hadn’t felt this anxious about anything in his life and it wasn’t fair because he didn’t know what to do and God, he just wanted to know if he’d been accepted or not.  As Harry watched Louis’ blue eyes glaze over with worry, he smiled at him, bringing the envelope from behind him.

“Is this what you were lookin’ for?” He drawled, holding it out to him. The older boy’s eyes lit up as he saw the paper, and he promptly grabbed it. The feel of it in his hand made it seem all that much more real as he suddenly felt the weight of all the stares in the room on him and the cream colored envelope. It was addressed to a Mr. Louis Tomlinson, which was weird because he didn’t remember it being so formal the first time. He turned away from everyone, expecting the worst as he slid his finger under the flap. Breathing slowly, he started to wonder what he’d do if it said he wasn’t accepted. He needed to be accepted. He’d quit his job at the bookstore right after reapplying, riding the high that came with the hopes of making something of himself and he couldn’t imagine what he’d do if he was denied now. Not only would he be a university dropout, he’d be a university dropout denied of reentry with no job. With one final, steadying breath, he tore the envelope open. Slipping his fingers in between the jagged edges, he gripped the paper that was inside and pulled it free. This was it. 

Everything grew deafeningly quiet as he unfolded the paper, eyes scanning over the words at the top. 

Harry watched Louis, willing him to turn around and let them know the verdict, though there was no way he could be denied. They had no reason to turn him down. But as time passed and Louis stayed turned away, he could feel his giddiness from finding the letter in the mail start to dissipate. He looked towards the group around the table, who all had varying degrees of worry in their eyes as they watched their friend.

“Lou?” Harry asked, not sure what to do if he ended up being wrong. “Louis?” He asked again when the older boy didn’t answer. Stepping closer, he reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder as he finally turned around. Harry barely had time to register the blinding smile before he was tackled to the ground as arms wrapped around his neck and Louis crashed their lips together. Stumbling backwards, he caught himself on the back of the couch before moving his hands to his boyfriend’s hips. A grin curled over his lips as he pulled back and gazed down at Louis, who was beaming. 

“Good news than?” He chuckled.Nodding his head vigorously, Louis’ eyes shined brightly as he pressed closer into him, hugging him close.

“Thank you,” he breathed into Harry’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Oi, I can only assume it said something good, but I’d like to hear it from you!” Niall shouted from where he sat, smiling wide at his best friend’s obvious excitement. Chuckling lowly, Louis pulled himself from Harry and walking over to the group at the table. 

“I’ve been accepted!” He cheered, smiling even wider, which he didn’t even think could be possible. Perrie squealed excitedly and she jumped up from Zayn’s lap to throw her arms around his neck. 

“Good job, mate!” Zayn congratulated, joining his girlfriend in the hug. 

“That’s my boy!” Niall cheered, throwing his arms over the three people currently entwined.

“Good job, Lou,” Liam smiled, completing the group hug. Louis smiled, feeling for the first time in a long time like there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. As he buried his face into his best friend’s shoulder, he couldn’t help but think about how much things had changed. Just a few months ago he wasn’t the happiest with his situation, and now he had the boy of his dreams, the best friends he could ask for, and he was going to make something of himself. With his face pressed into Niall’s shoulder, he didn’t see as Harry snapped a picture and promptly tweeted it. 

“How about we go out and celebrate?” Harry asked as the group pulled apart. He’d honestly not felt this happy in, well, he didn’t think he’d ever been this happy. Louis was everything he’d ever wanted and he had the greatest friends. Seeing them all happy was all he asked for, and that’s what he’d gotten. The other two couples nodded in approval, heading towards the door.

“Alright, babe, let’s go!” Louis said, skipping happily over to him because, well he was allowed to skip at a time like this. He was just so happy. As they made their way to the door, he stopped, pulling his hand from Harry’s. “Wait, I have to go get my phone!” Returning to the table to retrieve the device, he pressed the screen lock button, bringing it to life and seeing that there was one new message. Walking back towards Harry, he opened it to read it.

> @Harry_Styles: Everyone congratulate @Louis_Tomlinson ! He’s off to uni! #HesABigKidNow

His eyes shone as he looked at the picture attached of his four friends hugging him. It was a near perfect picture, the only thing missing being the one who’d taken the picture to begin with. Smiling down at his phone, he hit the retweet button before pressing reply.

> @Harry_Styles Thank you. Really. It wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for you #BigLove

“Lou, ya comin?” Harry called from the door. Looking up from his phone, he nodded, taking in the sight of the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Yeah, I’m comin’!” He replied, locking the phone and shoving it into his pocket before following the group out of his flat. As they reached the door that led to the cool, London air, Louis pulled Harry back into the mail room by the door.

“Wha-” he started to ask before he was cut off by Louis’ lips pressed tenderly to his. Melting into the kiss, he traced the older boy’s bottom lip with his tongue, enjoying the small gasp it elicited before he pulled away slightly. As he peered down at Louis, he cocked his eyebrow questioningly.

“Just thought I’d give you one for the road,” Louis shrugged. “And so you’d know that there’s plenty more where that came from when we get home,” he smiled. Harry felt his heart flutter as he took in the smile that was meant entirely for him.

“Well than we’d best get going,” he chuckled, having half the mind to march Louis right back upstairs and have him all to himself. But he could share him for now, after all, it was Louis’ day and well, he was his anyway. With another quick peck on the lips, Louis led the way towards the outdoors where their friends were waiting for them.  _Yeah_ , Louis thought to himself as they started to head down the street as a large group of friends, sharing secret smiles and inside jokes,  _there was nothing that could make me happier_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still sad about this thing ending! There is, however, a WIP sequel entitled Lovebirds!


End file.
